


Alexithymia

by orphan_account



Category: Hamilton - Miranda
Genre: Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Alternate Universe - Demons, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - Supernatural Elements, Anal Sex, Autumn, Black Markets, Blackmail, Blindfolds, Curses, Depression, Dom Marquis de Lafayette, Drunkenness, Edgeplay, Everyone Is Gay, Falling In Love, Flashbacks, Fluff and Smut, Foursome - M/M/M/M, Gay, Gay Sex, Hate Sex, Humiliation, Intimacy, Intimidation, LafHam, Lams - Freeform, Light Bondage, Love/Hate, M/M, Masturbation, Multi, Not gay enough, Overstimulation, Past Rape/Non-con, Porn With Plot, Public Hand Jobs, Roleplay, Sacrifice, Sexual Assault, Sexual Experimentation, Songfic, Stockholm Syndrome, Thomas Jefferson Being an Asshole, Threesome - M/M/M, Trauma, Unhealthy Relationships, Voyeurism, Weird Plot Shit, half-snake people, we need more gay
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-10-20
Updated: 2018-03-01
Packaged: 2019-01-20 02:50:53
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 40
Words: 61,819
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12423564
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: "He'd never let me go."Alex thought the only thing he was trapped in were his own thoughts.Then Jefferson arrived.





	1. Amorevolous

_Future QuinnFuzz here. The first chapter is pretty much the worst. I would edit it, but it shows how much I've improved. I will try and reply to every comment. Thanks for reading!_

Trickling through the numerous pages in a National Geographic magazine, Alex peered out the window to his right where a few car horns had echoed down the abnormally quiet street. The moon haphazardly lay over in the distance, releasing the notice that it was almost three AM, as dawn was breaking soon he realized. He grinded his knuckles into his eyes, sighing as he stood up and pushed the chair in. It squeaked in protest before arriving at a resting position, leading Alex to turn away toward the doorway to his bedroom.

The room was small, a twin bed against the wall and a combination of vinyl stickers and taped poetry were clinging to the chipping paint. John Laurens never really minded a cramped space, especially if he was sleeping with the one he loved. The man was always awake this period of the night, off at the bar working the late shift. He would arrive home soon enough and the two would share the space until daybreak when Alexander had to leave for another job interview, another rejection, and then another few hours galloping from one side of the street to the other, snagging as many of the bookstore's free novels without seeming suspicious.

Alex pounced from the doorway onto the side of the bed, face down onto the mattress. It creaked showing years of age and as he settled, he could almost hear the key shift in the keyhole at the front door. It must have been Laurens returning from his occupation and Alex could almost feel his warmth against him. He wanted to shout out his name, maybe welcome him home from work, but right now all he really needed was some rest.

Laurens entered the room, black bartender uniform half-strung across his body as the buttons were all nearly undone. His hair was messy in its normal bun and his eyes, while usually bright and curious, were a dull shade. Alex could make this out of the corner of his gaze and flipped to his side.

"How's work?"

"Aw, you're awake," Laurens noted almost optimistically, "I thought Hamilton actually slept."

He smirked flirtatiously. "How about you help me over here?" He sat up, his sleepy daze causing him to lean up against the wall. Upon viewing Laurens' distrusting yet curved smile, Hamilton corrected himself. "Come on, I'm not usually like this."

"Yeah, I thought you'd demand it. Are you drunk?"

"That's not something you ask."

He chuckled as he unbuttoned his attire and stood in the middle of the small bedroom checking his phone and messing with his hair. "It's my job, Alex. Oh, how are the interviews coming?" He clocked his head over to meet Alex's eyes.

He avoided the question, of course. "Fine. What's going on with your phone?"

Laurens could almost always tell when his love was throwing shit to the fan or about to disguise his words. He strutted over to the bed on the opposite side of Alex and laid down, his chest exposed to the chilly air as he read over a few texts on his phone. "We have rent in a week. What is going on with--"

"We'll talk about it in the morn--"

"We always wait until morning, and then you head who the fuck knows where," Laurens started a tad aggressively before sighing, "We need to get out of here, and we can't do it by touring the city everyday. You sold the TV and now all we eat is damn Cup of Noodles. What even is a cup of noodles? Why not a bowl or something? Why a short ass mug of pasty wheat? We're cutting it clean, Alex, and we can't go any lower."

"I'll have you know--"

"That the short ass mug of wet gluten is delicious?" Laurens interrupted, smiling ominously as they both built eye contact. It was thick, a tangible weight of heat between them, and it could only be seized when he lay across Alex's hips, meeting his chest earnestly as he rolled his thighs slightly forward, resisting his legs against the man's crouch. "How are you feeling tonight?"

"Oh god."

"Yeah, what'd you think I was going to do?"

"We don't do this a lot," Alex justified, almost worried to reveal himself that close to another, even if it was his own romantic partner. "And if my back is sore during my walk tomorrow, I'll seize your ass."

"I thought that was my job." Laurens snickered as he kissed Alex's cheek playfully, moving to his lips soon after and locking. He rummaged around his face, leaving small marks as he went. As they broke, he made perfect contact with the man's deep brown eyes, whispering, "I'm not going all the way yet. You need sleep." He wrapped his arms around his neck, licking his lips.


	2. Pessundated

Alex woke up the next day realizing, yes, they had gone all the way that night and, yes, his lower back felt as if somebody had socked it, which was kind of true. He sat up, noticing that Laurens had left the room and it was nearly nine o'clock, the interview being in around three hours. He rubbed his eyes before attempting to stand up, in which he mumbled a harsh "fuck" and nearly knelt down in torment. However, since the day needed to begin, he assumed he could just take an Aspirin and be on his way.

As he left the bedroom, he noted that Laurens was actually laying down on their cheap leather couch, sipping ramen as he read an article from the local newspaper. He, upon noticing Alexander, chipped his head up and smirked. "Are you regretting your choices?"

"If I wasn't struggling to stand up, I'd beat your sorry ass."

"You said it would be fine!"

"Yeah, but... you still should have known," he retorted weakly as he sat down on the other side of the couch, eyeing the back of the newspaper. "The next interview is for a grocer near Chinatown."

"That is... eight miles away? Have we cleaned out most of the jobs around here?"

"I've been fairly ambitious with my selection," he noted as he gestured to the stack of lists on the kitchen table noting nearby bookstores and such, "And I realized that having a panic attack during the interview and then not answering any questions has limited my chances, so I thought that picking a job near a place nobody knows me would help. Plus, I could do my average hour or two of thinking on the drive."

He groaned disapprovingly. "Just get a job at the bubble tea place or something."

"You think I know what bubble tea is? Isn't it from Japan or something?"

"Taiwan, and you should really stay closer to home, just in case something terrible happens back here." Laurens stood to his feet and turned slightly to face Alex, "Should I say the line?"

"The... line?" He took a step forward, their five inch height difference now coming into account.

He smirked once again. "'I don't know what would happen if something happened to me and you weren't there,' you know?"

"Don't tell me that sentimental crap," Alex laughed, wrapping his arms over the taller man's shoulders and leaning back. "I'm going to catch a bus north and I'll be back before you head out, alright?"

"Yeah, right. Right. And I want something a bit more than last night."

Alex backed up, turning around to the kitchen table and unscrewing the pill jar next to the napkin stack. He pulled out a painkiller, swallowed it, and turned around again, leaning onto the table. "Speaking of..."

"I was that good?"

"God damn it." Alex then broke out of his slight haze and stared down at himself, noticing that he needed to get dressed. "I need to grab some clothes. How about... how about you and I travel north and we head to the grocery together? Then if I get rejected, which I know I won't this time, then we can come home early and do whatever you wanted. Or buy more ramen. Whatever. How about that?"

Alex leaned to the side and shuffled off to the bedroom, finally ready.

 

"Time to celebrate!" Laurens laughed, gripping his arms around Alex's neck in the back of the bus. He blushed brightly, tossing his scarf over his shoulder, gently removing Laurens' hands from his shoulders. "Sorry. I'm just excited."

"I know, I know. We should drink that wine--"

Laurens hushed him with a finger. "You know how you get with alcohol," he noted in an animated fashion, smiling slightly, "One glass and you're tipsy."

"Laurens, let me just say, this is a special occasion." Alexander folded his fingers together as the bus chugged along, a police siren wailing in the distance. "We should do whatever you want. My treat. You helped me get to this point," Alex pointed, leaning against the taller one who was decked in a fall parka. "Whatever you could possibly want, we'll do it. We can head to the bar or grab some coffees or head to the park..."

"We need a TV."

The couple made eye contact before Alexander raised an eyebrow, stating, "We can't really--"

"A cheap one. A box. A twenty-four inch. I need to keep up on my sitcoms, dude. It'll be, like, fifty bucks, or we'll just pick one up at some dumpster. It'll bring the apartment all together."

Laurens leaned into their little embrace and placed a grip onto Alex's thigh, sending a mischievous grin to him as he waited for approval. The man sighed, grinning slightly as he kissed him by sitting up slightly. It was all smooth sailing from here, and as Laurens smoothly rubbed his lover's crouch with his knuckles and felt around, he pulled him closer to eliminate a prime view for other bus-goers. Once he felt the familiar tug against the fabric of the grey dress pants, he stroked a tad lightly, sneaking his hand underneath the button and onto what was underneath.

At this point, Alex was slightly taken aback, but continued nonetheless. He gladly allowed the other to engage in whatever tease he was trying to pull off and decided to mark the man's neck as he was examining. This led Laurens to hike up his fingers slightly, gripping the base of Alex's cock in an accidental manner. This not only caused Alexander to let out a slight unfamiliar sound, but also to grow incredibly red. Yet, he would be a fool if he preached disdain, so as any poor decision would go, he leaned back slightly in his seat, causing another tremor deep within his lower abdomen.

Laurens stared down confused at the sudden change in Alex's openness, while feeling no need to hold back. He gripped the member ever so slightly as he tugged down deep into the nestles of his attire. He knelt down and hushed, "Everyone is looking at you."

In fact, the other civilians on the bus were following their own business, occasionally taking minor glances over at the ruckus in the back, yet the vehicle was so crowded in the front and with the various older women screaming about their style and pattern choices, few even counted their existence. Though even this statement was false, Alexander's blush reached a deeper red around his cheekbones and he trembled deep into his seat.

"Finish what you started then," was all he could muster, slinking into submission as he tore at the inner area of his thighs around Laurens' hand. "You can't leave me like this up until the walk home."

"I most certainly can."

His face went a pale beige. "W-Why--"

"You said I could do anything I wanted," he murmured sheepishly, a sinister spreading out from his lips.


	3. Philocaly

It was a tad akin to pushing the envelope, yet if Alex was going down without a fight, even on his day of gaining his new occupation, he wanted it to be damn sincere. He stood to his feet, a smirk grazing his face as he stared down at Laurens, a slight pothole on the road leading to the bus trembling slightly. He bent forward slightly, placing both his hands on either side of where his companion was sitting. Laurens, as this was happening, had a rather confused look on his lips, yet continued anyway with what was happening, hoping that Alex at least had an idea of what he was doing.

"What the literal _fuck_ are you doing?" It was almost frustrated, and the second it escaped from Laurens' mouth, he almost immediately regretted it. Alex leaned in even further, causing the taller one to almost roll his eyes in torment as what would come next. He didn't have an exact explanation for what would happen, but he knew if this went any further, it would be a distraction to the rest of the bus riders.

He snickered, placing his hands on Laurens' shoulders at his point. "I'm taking back what I said before."

"And that would be...?"

Alex gave him a stare that echoed, "How much of an imbecile do you have to be to not understand--?!" but he shook it off quickly. "Letting you pick what's happening tonight. I want to pick a few things."

"A-Alright." He didn't mean to stutter, since everybody knew John Laurens was an overconfident piece of pure dick, so he tried to cover it with a quick smile filled with deceit.

He continued to lean in, their chests almost touching. "So, Chinese food tonight--the crappy Americanized version, not the authentic stuff--and... how about... I want to try something different."

He raised an eyebrow, almost a bit uneasy under the palms of Alex, yet let him continue.

"I'd kill a family of polio victims for a cup of lo mien, let me tell you." He sighed deeply at these words, making complete eye contact with Laurens who was unbearably puzzled at this sudden proclamation. Alexander knew this, and, with a rather awkward breath, he continued. "I'm starving right now."

Laurens cocked his head to the side before his eyes widened and he finally understood. "Oh--Yeah, yeah, I get it. Completely. Yeah. Yes, definitely." He prevented himself best he could from blushing. He attempted to think of anything else besides... _that_...Mainly focusing himself on a small puppy rolling around in a patch of grass or the old landlord perched on the fire escape smoking a cigarette. Mundane things that could relish anything except for the sudden heat deep in his stomach.

"Are you sure?" He knew Laurens was slightly bent when it came to these types of cues.

"I did it last night, didn't I?"

"Yes, but if I must be honest, it was as satisfying as a choked up Tetris match." Alex was suddenly alerted to the familiar pain he had felt since the morning. "I want to call the shots tonight, even if I have to receive the shots."

Laurens raised an eyebrow before understanding once more. "Ah. So, like, you'll say 'do this' and then I will 'do this', but I'm not telling you what I'm doing, you're telling me what I'm doing."

"It's really not that weird. Why are you explaining this out loud?"

"I thought it would be sensual or something if I said what was obvious. I don't know."

Alex stepped back, oddly unimpressed. He thought that this small ordeal would end in one of them being hopelessly turned on, but it ended up just being another conversation that ended up with pure doubt in his mind or a dull look on his face. He took a seat next to Laurens, leaning against his shoulder as he adjusted his fall coat. "You're great at this," he muttered, his lips dripping with sarcasm.

"Mmm-hmm," he hummed, leaning back and pulling his phone out, checking it with a slight wonder in his eyes. "I know."

"Hey... Alex...?" Laurens was leaning outward from the doorway as Alex read a novel from one of his studies. He looked up from where he was laying and raised an eyebrow. "Yeah, so... could we have some people over, just for today? I know it's your night and all, but..."

Okay, Laurens knew exactly why Alex wouldn't want anybody over, especially somebody he would not know. He was rather squeamish around others, rather spending his time at the bubble tea place down the street and listening to whatever game was on than have a get-together in his crappy apartment. "Alright. Who is it? Do I know them or are they just your friend?"

"They work at the bar and I thought you'd like to meet them."

"What's their name?" He was curious now, even if he was about to groan in disapproval. He had to tell him at the last second, even when it was such an event that drove him mad, Laurens would never spill a hint.

Laurens was grinning now. "Uh, Marquis."

"Let me guess, you planned this days in advance and you never told me?" It would always get on his nerves when Laurens would do this.

He changed the subject, "You'll love him. We've known each other for months. It'll be fun." It was like he was making up rapid-fire excuses just to shake the blame off his collar. "We don't even have to leave the apartment. We'll order takeout--like you wanted--and then he'll leave. It's perfectly fine." He took a few steps back before peaking his head in once more. "Yes?"

"Fine."

"Great. Love you..." His voice trailed off as he walked off with his phone, yet his footsteps still audible in the small lodging. Alex leaned back into the bed, staring up at the ceiling and dropping the book to the floor, its pages flipping through as it closed. He peered close into the light, trying to make sense of why some coworker was being invited on some random weekday when it was known to be _his_ night. How was he going to have his way while some hipster-sounding bartender stood in the doorway? He wasn't one for voyeurism, not even one for most deviant activities, but if Laurens was planning anything, he might as well spill it right now.

He groaned, sitting up as he leaned against the wall, adjusting his sweatshirt and finally standing up. If he was going to have guests over, he might as well wash up or at least change his clothes.


	4. Basorexia

He stepped out of the bedroom, his hands laced around the corner. He had on a punk sticker tee-shirt, a pair of baggy jeans, and a cold look on his face. He could see Laurens speaking energetically to a taller shadow, and as Alex peered more and more around the corner, he could make out his shape more.

Oh _God_.

He never did like to overindulge those he adored with compliments, yet this man was the epitome of "fuck yes". Built shoulders, chiseled jaw line, a smug smile that caused him to almost melt to the core inside. The piece of meat, who he knew was named Marquis, turned his head slightly to face Hamilton and smirked strongly. Laurens' eyes lit up as the two made eye contact.

"This is--"

"Yeah, Marquis. Got it," he paused, taking a deeper look into the man's perfect smile, "Should have I worn something more formal?" The other two had on rather chic dress pants and Marquis even had some sweater wrapped around his virtually perfect body.

He took one more step forward, "No, you are lovely." French. That drawl was enough to send him into a spiraling orgasm onto the floor, yet Alex kept his composure as Marquis spoke. Fuck, why did he allow Laurens to even consider this? He noted it would just be dinner, and it may as well be, but why would he scoop up a genderbent Venus off his work lineup? With the skin of caramel, eyes as piercing as an ax blade. He knew he was slightly blushing. "Let's talk," Marquis suggested, taking a seat on the couch near him, "And, please, call me Lafayette."

He shared a quick glance with Laurens, who was on the phone with the Chinese restaurant, before returning eye contact with Lafayette. "A-Alright. Uh," he took a seat next to him on the couch, "You know Laurens?"

"Yes. Through work." He turned his head to Laurens and raised his voice, " _Laisse-moi prends-tu par derrière, mon amour._ " The other turned his head, a cold grin on his face. Alexander stared from one man to the other, trying to translate the sentence in his head. Something about taking something? Grabbing something? Maybe it was something to order or to lend him a jacket since it was mildly cold out, yet that seemed unlikely.

"Shut. Up." He placed the phone near his ear once again.

Alexander shot a look in Lafayette's direction. "Did Laurens not tell you, Alexander?"

"Tell me...?"

Lafayette shifted in slightly closer. "Hamilton, allow me to understand... What exactly do you think you are in for?" His accent was as thick as his-- _Alexander, get your mind out of the gutter._ "Let me... adjust my speech. What exactly do you want to be in for?"

"Did Laurens plan--"

"He told me what you wanted." He moved in even closer, one foot resting on the ground, one brushing gently against Hamilton's side, whose middle was exposed. "I do not want this to be rushed or cliche, and I do hope this does not come off as too much, but I have never seen such a _petit ange_ as you." Every time he said the word "you", Alex was reminded of the ever strong lingering in his crotch.

"Laurens, how much did you pay this man?"

"Fifty bucks."

" _What?_ "

"Joking, joking," Laurens admitted, dropping off his phone on the dining room table as he took a seat on the other side of the couch. "I thought we could improve things with somebody who was well acquainted with his tools. The Chinese is coming in an hour, so we should probably get this show on the road." He cracked his knuckles before stepping off to the bedroom. "Coming?"

"Is this actually... with... why..."

Lafayette knelt over him on the couch, his palms on either side of him. "Is there an issue?"

"No, no. Not at... not at all--Okay, I'm new to this." He sat up, sliding off and arriving to his feet.

-

He sat at the edge of the bed, sweater now tossed on the floor as well as a few other pieces of his outfit. Every inch of him was the perfect idol of a man. It made Hamilton practically shiver to himself as he lay on the other end. He had told Laurens that he would rather periodically remove clothing than undressing, as Lafayette had did.

"Let's start with this." He unbuckled Alexander's jeans in order to begin, yet this immediately broke the slightly heavenly silence and erupted a sickening pain in the back of his throat. His eyes widened and, almost impulsively, he slapped away Laf's hand. This immediately sent a slight confused look upon his partner's face--almost a blush--and he attempted to ask for an explanation with his stare.

"Laurens didn't tell you enough." Alexander's eyes stung slightly and he refused to make eye contact. "I'm sorry, but Laurens always warned me about this kind of thing."

"What do you... Did I do something?"

"No! No. You didn't do a thing." Alex regained his posture and lowered his gaze. He chuckled sullenly, "Sometimes his past likes to play tricks on him. He always taught me to avoid this kind of thing with people I barely know." He haphazardly attempted to stay positive rather than outwardly aggressive.

He grasped slowly at Alexander's hand. "Did something happen--?"

"It's not for me to say. Laurens and I started dating years after what happened and in the early months, all he would tell me was he could barely stand romance. We've just recently gotten into the whole sex thing."

Lafayette thought for a moment than rephrased his words. "Why did he have to tell you to stay away from people? Did something happen to Laurens?"

"I don't believe I am the one you should ask, yet if you ask Laurens, he will stay as dishonest and stubborn as he could be... As his friend, I thought he'd tell you."

"Is he very protective of you?"

"Somebody did something to him years ago," Alex interjected, causing the conversation to fall to limp silence. He cleared his throat before continuing, "He was walking down a street after work and some guy followed him, then..." He paused, clearing his throat once again. "I don't know. Laurens' words and the memory of him telling me what happened just hit me. I'm sorry if I offended you."

"N-No, _amour_ , not at all. He just," Lafayette tossed his legs over the side of the bed, "He never told me."

"You know, he is very protective. He never wants that to happen to me or to anyone, which is I think why he doesn't want me to work so far from home."

"You could work with me."

Alex shook his head politely. "At the bar? Pub life was never quite my area of expertise."

"No. It is a rather unknown area of pay, yet you could make lots of money by just sitting in a room for a day or two." He pulled out his phone and swiped a few times as Alexander struggled to snag a view. "You give up yourself and you get money back."

"That sounds rather vague. What do you mean by giving up yourself?"

He smirked deeply. "I am fairly new, so I gave up a patch of skin." He gestured to his left side where a distinct, black phrase of ink was stabbed deep into his rib. It formed a rather messy symbol and seemed almost half-finished. "The guy there was so nervous, he almost quit his job right before writing this. But, _mon ami_ , there is always a twist."

"How much money do you get?"

"Let us say, my rent for the year is paid off. That was only for getting a little spec written on my skin. The more you give up, the more they give you, until money cannot even dream of buying _le langues douces seulement connues dans les rêves_. I heard some give up an arm or a leg and receive weekends so filled with love that by Monday, they almost want to kill themselves. They will never obtain such brutal pleasure for the rest of their lives."

"Therefore..." Alexander stood up, something deep inside him splitting down the middle. A smile snapped onto his face and he turned by to Lafayette, a sudden beat deep in his heart. "If you can earn that much by selling a piece of skin... then... if I sell my arm or my leg or my fingers or my skull..."

Lafayette stood up and placed a finger on Alexander's forehead before drawing a circle around the circumference. "Cuts here and here and all over here. Sell your eyes even, and your hair, and your blood." He then pushed Alex's chin upward with her palm. "But, if you sell something deeper, like the brain... like the soul... Oh, _tu ne veux pas_?" A warm glow echoed deep in his eyes. "We shall do it, Alexander."

"I'll give all the money to Laurens and keep the rest. He'll be so goddamn glad."

"When will you begin?"

"Tomorrow. Right now," he slid a cocky grin up to Lafayette, "While we wait for Laurens to finish his shower, let's get started."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> <3 dA - catlyric


	5. Gallophile

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WARNING - Sexual assault flashback.

_John Laurens had been slowly stumbling through the street, his head pounding with a headache laced with barbed wire and scissors. He breathed in deeply, holding his side as he continued on, his tongue gently aiding his dry lips. He could practically feel the man's breath, the man who had been following him for an hour. He was decked in a pair of dress pants and a wife-beater, a lace jacket draped over his shoulders._

_If he ran, the man would charge after him. If he stopped to call a cab, it would cause a confrontation. He just had to walk home and try to take every turn and slide just to manage to find his way home._

_Then, he was tackled into a puddle._

_It was hot, yet freezing cold on his back, the brisk blood of his broken nose hitting the pavement, the moistness of his coat now soaked in the rainwater. He attempted to sit up, his heart racing hard and swiftly, but there was a weight pushing down on his lower back, someone laying across it. There was a disgusting aroma of the city air and as he attempted to gasp and scream, a thick hand brushed over his mouth._

_He then realized he was being pulled back by an arm craned over his chest, dragging him into the nearby alleyway. If he was dropped off in there and something happened to him, he would never come out alive. Laurens bucked the man's upper leg with his own, causing him to grip at his face deeper._

"Laurens!" Alex knocked gently on the bathroom door, smirking slightly. "Are you coming out soon?" He had a tad of light foreplay with Lafayette, but was absolutely enthralled by the idea of Laurens joining, maybe growing a bit more trustworthy of people.

"J-Just a minute!"

_He woke up at the bleeding hours of dawn, his face dry and his tongue layered with a revolting taste and the saltiness of blood. He attempted sitting up before feeling something like a gunshot wound wrapped around his inner thighs, burning like sandpaper and sunburn. His buckle was ripped clean off and his pants unzipped, the harsh grip of a palm echoing in his mind. Every piece of muscle was aflame._

_He tried screaming to no avail--his voice had gone rotten--and coughed up phloem toward to asphalt. It was difficult to move, every step a tragic split, and as he struggled to lean up against the brick wall of the alley, buckled his jeans, and stared off into the street, John Laurens' strongest wills could not prevent tears._

"Are you alright?"

"No, no, f-fuck no," he muttered as he wiped away at his face with a rip of toilet paper. 

"Laurens, I'm coming inside." He grasped the door knob before being taken aback by John Laurens wrapping his body around him, wheezing heavily with tears stinging his eyes and his hold weak. His hands were sweating, practically tearing through Alexander's hair to hold desperately onto his form, his eyes stinging passionately.

He whispered weakly, "I ruined every--"

"I love you more than anything," he interjected, his hands quivering as he held Laurens' close, "What... happened?"

"Please just let me be." His hands were cold, sweating.

He placed both of his hands onto Laurens' shoulders. "Laurens, I've just discovered a way we're going to get out of here, and we'll get everything we've ever wanted."

"W-What..?"

"Lafayette told me about--"

John Laurens stared at him in a mixture of shock and slight curiosity. "Alex, I'm not really feeling great right now." He stumbled over and sat down on the couch, noticing a steamed Lafayette leaning against the bedroom doorway.

"Want me to get you something?" He sat down next to him, his wide eyed stare still holding its own.

"N-No. I just," he breathed in deeply before continuing sheepishly, "I'm sorry. This whole day has just been so weird. I need to take a nap or..."

"You sure you don't want to--"

"I'm fine, Alexander, really." He took Alex's hand and smiled dearly into his eyes before laying down across the couch, cuddling a pillow next to him. "I really just want to spend my day off sleeping. Maybe I'll come in later."

"Alright. You can come in anytime." He stood up, turning to the bedroom doorway. Pacing forward, he made a gesture to return inside, a gentle smirk inching onto his face as he walked on. Before entering, he turned around one last time, stating, "If you really want anything, you can just ask. It's not that big of a deal, you know." Upon realizing Laurens had fallen fast asleep, he stepped backward into the bedroom.

-

"So we're doing this."

No more stalling, this was getting _done_. If he had to wait one more minute, he was probably just going to get mildly annoyed or irritated. He was now laying down across the bed, almost nervous, but not quite as anxious as he thought he'd be. He had only had the plainest of the plain when it came to contact with another, but now he was hopelessly turned on, spread out on a twin-sized bed with Lafayette over him.

" _Vous etes beau._ " His words leaked honey and warmth, yet Hamilton knew what was about to happen would turn the dial fast.

"I know what you're doing," he teased, his hands brushing against Laf's hair as he smirked mischievously. Laf leaned forward and down, inching toward what Alex was waiting for throughout the past three hours. It was a calm night, Laurens still asleep on the couch, the cars honking busily in the streets below. The air was fresh with sweat and cheap Febreeze, yet as Alex propped himself by setting both arms on either side of the bed, gripping the sheets and mattress, the only feeling radiating through his mind was unabridged, lustful eagerness.

The instant that Laf even tapped his cock was enough to send him into a frenzy of thoughts, and the second he went deeper, closer, whatever adjective you could use, he realized he had been on the edge for the past day. The man's mouth around his--Hell, it was enough to knock him out where he laid. A sudden shock was lifted throughout his back, causing him to arch and thrust his lower half forward. Lafayette continued, however, resisting against it, almost unaffected. Alexander stared upward to the ceiling, slamming his head down into the pillow in restraint. He usually attempted not to make any sounds (to prevent embarrassment or giving the other person something to call him out on), but this very moment, he let a small "Fuck" slip out, a smile creeping out onto his face as he did it.

Lafayette lifted his head upward, gripping Alex's member in a gentle grip. "Would you like me to--"

"Yes!" He dropped his enthusiasm down a few. "That would be great."

"You did not hear what--"

"Anything. I'm fine with it. I'm right there, Laf," he added, his breath quick and rushed. Oh God, he sounded as if he would crumble before his companion. Sounded like a mix of pure sluttiness and downright humiliating desperation.

"Turn over, then."

He knew exactly where this was heading, but he almost couldn't even think of a reason against it. He was almost overflowing with emotion, and as he gently flipped over, his head gently laying on the blanket, he realized just exactly what he was getting into. The night before, when he and Laurens did it, it was mostly overlooked to just how drowsy he was, yet now, he was fully awake and sort of longing for an intimate moment, right before realizing he wanted and almost _needed_ this to happen.

He could make out Lafayette preparing something in the slight darkness, slight distance in the situation, right before realizing he was being prepped and, right before he could realize just exactly what was happening, the pieces all fit together.

The chilliness of the lubricant practically crawled up his spine as he held back a moan, quickly closing his mouth and holding back his anticipation for the riveting moment. Alexander's dreamy eyes floated off to a distant, warm space, his forehead laced with sweat as his face morphed into a calm, patient expression. He was in euphoria, preceding the sudden lurch forward from Lafayette.

The feeling was so foreign, so distracting, that all he could manage to sputter was, "Every time you say something in French... I fucking lose it."

Now deep inside Alexander, Lafayette cracked a grin and perched forward over his love. "Hmm... _Je peux jouir dans ton cul, salope?_ " Alex had very little clue in what he was saying, but it made him almost tilt over the edge. " _Ca te plait?_ "

To agree was probably the best idea. "...Yes." He rolled her shoulders against the sheets, shooting his lower back out once more, arching again. He shoved further down onto Lafayette's cock, moaning slightly as he snapped his head back in pleasure. He turned his head to meet eyes with the man behind him. "Oh my God," he chuckled a bit, pushing down his chest against the pillow.

Lafayette then pulled out slightly before slamming back in again, a burning look in his eyes as he positioned his face in a calm and compassionate form. " _Mon putain petit_."


	6. Phonomania

He had just witnessed... what, exactly? Leaving the apartment for some air, Laurens had come across something blood-curdling that had taken place in the alleyway next to his apartment complex. A brutal butchering to the body of a man in his early twenties. All that was left of him was a husk, his organs raided, air cut, eyes pulled. Laurens stood over the body, the liquids flowing onto the asphalt.

The shadow with the knife was wheezing nearby behind a garbage can. His breath was horse and rushed, skin dark and eyes painted pink. "Step _back_."

Laurens' voice was gurgled, slightly stumped as he attempted to make sense of all he had seen. He matched the other man's breathing rhythm, the pattern shuffling from terror to confusion and back to fear. "...A... W-Wha--"

" _Step back._ If you take another scuttle closer, I'll turn your skin into an overcoat." His voice was borderline raspy, eyes bulging from the sockets as a shaky claw scratched at the air. Laurens fell back, turned, and chased away toward the dull moonlight out onto the sidewalk. He peered back one last time, the skin sack still sprawled across the ground, the man scurrying off deeper into the alley.

He inhaled deeply, thoughts racing as he glanced around to see if anyone was searching or watching him. Laurens stared forward, contemplating his next move before taking a step forward toward the corpse and charging off after it, tears tearing at his eyes as he practically pounced onto it. He ripped open the cloth of the vest, opening the buttons on the flannel, examining the pockets. He needed an answer for this sudden burning deep in his gut, his curiosity, his deep breaths suppressing to sickness. Finally yanking a wallet out of his pant pocket, his read out a piece of ID.

He threw the identification over his shoulder and ripped out the money, the pay raking up to around $200.00. It felt shameful to steal from a dead man, but a man you might have known? One you may have seen on the street or lead down a walkway or opened the door for? One you may have seen at the bank or the park in the coldest bits of winter? Isn't it a bit cold to ask the hungry for more, the sick to allure, the regretful to remorse?

He pocketed the money, licked his lips, and turned on his heel to leave.

"He told you to step back."

"What is... Just let..." Laurens was speaking with the darkness in front of him, a troop of specters watching him part. "I don't know that man. He came in... he came in and killed--"

He then realized he was being lifted by his shirt collar above the body below by one of the taller man. He could almost hear the smile carve into his face. "You sickening mouse. We were lead to your apartment... Room 256? It is currently being raided. One known as Marquis in particular is being taken care of kindly." His voice was sweet and dripping with confidence. "Alexander will most certainly be dead."

Laurens breathed fast and deeply, his neck running cold as he hung quietly in the man's grasp. He dropped his head loosely, his breathing quickly returning to normal as he sighed.

"Aw, don't fret. We will certainly allow him to return to you--unharmed--if you allow yourself in his favor. James," he turned his head to a companion behind him, "Fetch me my friend. I'd like to show our dear John Laurens that I am not joking around with what I plan to do with his little one." He paused as he attempted forming eye contact with Laurens, who was enduring countless tears forming in his eyes. "Look at me." Laurens was absolutely silent as his eyes loomed on.

The man chuckled slightly as he drew a blade that one of his group had handed him.

"Look. At. Me."

"I'd rather die."

"Excellent choice." He slid the knife between Laurens' ribs, a bright, wide-eyed look drawing onto his face. He stared down at the mysterious criminal, shocked and aloof, his heart throbbing deep in his chest. "Consider Hamilton _dead_."

-

"Are you sure you don't know where John Laurens is?" Alex questioned Lafayette, sleepy as he sipped a tea, laying drearily across the twin-sized bed. "He was just asleep outside. I could have sworn he would not have moved." Laf was leaning against the wall next to the bed, sluggishly lifting his shoulders as he heard the doorbell ring. "Lafayette, could you please get that."

"I have no clue who would ring this late," he murmured, standing up and shuffling out of the bedroom toward the front door. Rubbing his eyes, he grasped the knob and turned it quickly, pulling it back into the living room. All that he could see was a small, crisp envelope on the carpet with light pink lettering written eloquently in the center. He knelt down, plucking it up and pealing open the letter, jerking out the note card inside and reading over it. _Join us at the Wilmington Warehouse tomorrow morning at five AM. We obviously know your address--Failure to arrival will use the resource of your address... fill in the rest from there._

He knew it was related to the company he worked for and turned around to march off into Alexander's quarters.

"We must wake at five tomorrow for a meeting. That is alright with you?" He sat down on the edge of the bed, leaning over Alexander's body warmly. He gently caressed his companion's face as he continued, "Once Laurens returns, we will all ride down there, alright?"

"I'm so anxious," he admitted, sliding his legs over the side of the bed, "I hope he at least returns before morning."

"Our love is fine. If he does not answer is phone in an hour, we will call him a few times, _mon cherie_."

Alex sighed, laying back against the wall once again before staring up at the ceiling. If something had actually happened to Laurens and he had been here, having lovely sex with Lafayette, he couldn't possibly forgive his actions or himself for that matter. Laurens was his first love, besides any friendship or family member. It was the first time he felt a sort of external heartbeat.

"Would you some more pleasure, _mon ami_?" Lafayette was on top of him once again smiling down as he cupped Alexander's face close to his.

"I'm beat, Laf," a smile spread across his face as he embraced him close.

Lafayette bent down, holding Hamilton's shoulders as he pressed his face against his, wrapping his arms gently around his back, stroking it slightly as he purred beyond his tender touch.

"I have never seen some one as perfectly placed together as you. Would you like it if I--"

"...Yes. I'm guessing you're asking if I want you to speak French."

" _Tu m'excites. Je veux faire l'amour avec toi, mon amor._ How was that?"

Alex spread out the hair away from Lafayette's face eagerly. "Lovely."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> dA - catlyric  
> wattpad - 3primadonna3


	7. Acerate

"Mr. Jefferson, where shall we throw the body?" Madison questioned as he lifted Laurens' half-conscious husk by his neck while James Reynolds scooped up his legs. He pushed Laurens' chin up slightly and cocked his head to the side, contemplating to himself.

Thomas turned, his tongue sliding out of his mouth slightly before he manually pushed it back in with his index finger. "Well, I don't want him to die that fast... Keep the knife where it is and haul him into the car. The doctors will cut out a kidney, maybe a lung..." He stood in front of Laurens, making eye contact with him as he panted heavily on the asphalt. "If he speaks, cut out an eye--"

"And if he screams, cut out both," James finished backing out into the sidewalk and dropping Laurens' feet on the ground, unhinging the back of the van and ushering Madison to drop him off in the trunk.

"What if he bleeds out?" Madison asked, shoving Laurens' awakened state into the back of the vehicle. "He is losing a lot of blood."

"I've been in this business long enough to know exactly where to hit," he chuckled, taking a step forward and placing himself into the passenger seat. "We get back to home base within an hour, this kid is going to see another day."

Madison nodded, dragging Laurens out of the trunk and instead into the backseat, strapping him into a seat before sitting down next to him, pulling a med kit out from underneath the seat as James started the vehicle. "Why did you have to stab him, Thomas? I did not attend medical school to sew up those hit by my best friend." He growled slightly as he tore off Laurens' nightwear and tended to the wound with his trusty sewing needle.

"I did not stab, I merely sliced up until I would come into contact with an artery. Mads, you have to calm your tits."

"Why must we keep him alive if we plan to harvest him?"

Thomas smiled and turned around in his seat. "I don't want to spoil it. And is the boy still alive?" He extended a hand, checking Laurens' palms as his cold fingers lead a chill down the man's spine. "Yep, alive."

"We'll take the unimportant organs first and then... the mind... and we'll finish with the soul?"

"He must be taught not to steal from strangers, isn't that right, John? John Laurens, it is?" He remembered that Laurens was placed under rule to not utter a sound. "You may speak now if you'd like."

He groaned loudly as a few tears dripped daintily down his face. "Did you kill Alex? I swear to God I'll fucking kill you!"

"Ah, relax. Once we return back to home base with the rest of the guys, you'll have a front row seat to watch his corpse rot. A last send off before yours takes place." He gripped Laurens' face in between his index finger and thumb as Madison quickly sewed into the man's skin. "Don't you dare cry. It's not a good look for you." He sent Madison a smirk as he plugged Laurens' ears with his palms. "You dropped off the letter at their door?"

"Yes. They will arrive at five tomorrow. How is this going to go about?"

"We harvest the boy and then tell the doctor down by my office to remove his mind. He'll forget his hardships, his pain, et cetera, et cetera, in exchange for his sanity. Once we gather the new recruits, we tell Hamilton that we found Laurens on the street having a sort of... 'episode'... crying and shit... We'll tell him we tried our best and the only way to help him is to donate a set of kidneys to our bank, which really makes no sense," he grinned in a sinister fashion, "But he'll believe it, if it saves his John Laurens. We'll milk him for all he's worth. He'll kill a hundred men if it means saving this one. I know this man."

"You never told me how you know Hamilton."

"And you'll never find out, Madison," he stated sharply, allowing his hands to fall from Laurens' head. "How about it, Laurens? Ready to see Hamilton again?"

-

Laurens was nowhere to be seen and, while extremely worried, Lafayette and Hamilton each took a seat in his Honda Civic and drove off without speaking, tears staining Hamilton's eyes. "You think he's out there, dead?"

"No, he is fine, love. I swear by it. We'll call the police if he does not arrive by morning. Right now, we must attend this little get-together. I believe I know who sent it."

"Who?"

"The company I work at has the tendency to offer jobs. They probably selected you or Laurens. They pay well and you will surely leave your apartment after a year or so with them, so you should be rather excited." Hamilton leaned against the window, the cold glass pressed against his cheek as he brushed away the tears with his shirt sleeve. He stared up at the roof.

He sighed deeply. "Why would they want one of us?"

"Maybe because you are just so lovely?" He placed one of his fingers on the radio dial. "Which one?"

"Something upbeat. I need to relax." He turned the dial and stopped on _Lay Me Down_ by Sam Smith. Alexander's emotions changed from tragic loss to enough anger to turn around and smash the radio. "You motherfucker."

"I apologize. How about this--"

"Country music is not much better."

"Here. Let us turn off the radio."

"Thank you."

Lafayette went silent, breathing harshly before turning back to Hamilton. "I am thinking about... selling more to the company than previously planned." He averted eye contact with the other.

"Oh?"

"I am thinking of selling my kidney. I do not know if it would be a good idea--"

"Just do what you need, Laf. You seem to trust these guys, and you'll get enough money to leave this section, save yourself from this crap," he rambled, his eyes glued to the window.

"I am sure you are right. Thank you."


	8. Monomachy

Five o'clock sharp, both Alexander and Lafayette were standing under an awning in front of a rather prestigious building, not at all what would come to mind when you utter the word "warehouse". A doorman stood outside and checked their invitation, his eyes scanning it as he nodded strictly. "Are you heading in for the recruit initiation? Always wanted to check it out. Never got the time."

Alexander brushed down his T-shirt, sighing in an audible fashion. "I'm just so worried about what happens iveneverbeenherebeforeandimsonervousitsjustsuchacalamitydontyouknow," he rambled sheepishly, brushing his shaking hands through his messy hair. Why would they want him of all people, especially during such a time like this, Laurens nowhere to be seen and the harsh winds blowing faster against the city sidewalks. "Sorry. Where do we go when we get in?"

"Just walk forward and the group of recruits should be already assembled."

"Thanks," Alex murmured as he stumbled through the now-open door, followed by Lafayette with his hands deep in his pockets. The room seemed akin to a rather musky ballroom, an ensemble of around a hundred or so people swarmed together in a mosh only a few feet away from the entrance. The colossal establishment was around the size of a football field and even then, the room was packed shoulder-to-shoulder, the noises of jeers and speeches radiating off the walls. Alex almost turned around, the packed room giving him instant vertigo, but Alexander never seized to amaze, and as he stepped through the door along with Laf, they immediately slammed shut and locked behind him.

"What if Laurens is here?"

"I highly doubt it, _mon ami_ , yet things may change."

"Sure. Where should we stand?" As he finished his words, a trembling voice announced something over the loudspeaker.

The speaker cracked, "Recruit 24601, please deflect to the Headmaster Office. Alexander Hamilton, 24601, Headmaster Office."

"24601? There're almost 25,000 recruits?" He turned to Lafayette as he noticed a hallway on the far side of the room with an office off to the side. He gently shoved and pushed through the groups of people, gripping Lafayettes arm as he pulled him through. "I'd never think to see so many guys--Hey, are there only guys here?"

Lafayette shook his head. "There are a few women, and there are many employees. Most do not stay for such a long time. A year or less before they give too much up."

He jabbed a few more people away before he was halfway through the mass, shoveling through this time. His hand was so tight around Laf's limb that his own fingers were beginning to feel numb. "What do you mean?"

"They start giving up their soul or their mind... A torture it is to live on without one's sanity or character."

"True... Hey, the office is right up here." He shoved another person off to the side as he let go of Laf and began his way toward the office door, a steal lock encompassing it from the outside. A small woman with cat-eyed glasses sat there, her makeup perfectly styled and her hair flowing out of a ponytail, as she rested on a swivel chair outside of the Headmasters chambers, her smaller desk holding a few knick-knacks.

She smiled lightly up to the pair. "Your names?"

"Alexander Hamilton and--" He had forgotten Lafayette's full name. "Marquis... de Lafayette."

"Ah, yes. Master Jefferson will be at your disposal in a moment." She gently pressed a buzzer next to a microphone on her desk. "They have arrived, sir. Would you like me to call for Madison?"

-

"No, that will be alright," he laughed into the microphone, staring down at the table in which Laurens was laying, barely conscious. He turned off his mic, spinning the seat around as he stood up and, in a suave manner, caressed Laurens' toned face timidly. "The removal couldn't have gone better. A whole section of the brain, removed. Once you awaken with your lovely brown eyes," he bent over Laurens shyly, smirking deviously, "You'll be lost in your own... little..."

The door cracked open, Alexander pressing open the door. "I was sent here. Would you mind if I brought a companion?"

Thomas was slightly shocked, yet he regained his posture and clapped his claw-like hands, illuminating a candle nearby. "Yes, yes. I must propose to you a great torment."

"Torment?" He stepped through the door, examining the room in front of him. The walls were a sullen red wallpaper, the floors an old carpet, and as he sat down in a velvet couch with Lafayette, he realized that most of the objects were coated in dust.

"Tell me about yourself."

"My name is Alexander Hamilton. I live near the southern side of NYC, I work in Chinatown, I am currently taken, what else would you like to know? Is there anything else to know?" The presence of this man was causing him to feel incredibly ill. It almost made him shake under the deceit deep within his heart.

He smiled hauntingly. "Well, I am Thomas Jefferson, oldest living man on record." Lafayette ticked his head to the side, noticing now that Jefferson had not a blemish on his body, nor a marking on his face or in his perfectly brushed haircut. "It may not seem like it, but my birthday was a few months ago and, I, uh... turned 170 years of age. Yeah, I really don't seem like it, right?"

"How..."

"Thank you for interrupting, Hamilton," he perched his legs up on the desk, separating his feet in a V shape to view the pair better. "I am incredibly wealthy, I'll have you know. This business is my pinnacle."

"Jefferson, I--"

"It's Master Jefferson. Wouldn't want anybody thinking we were friends, now would we?" He stood up, pulling a cane out from under his desk. "I came to speak with you about your lover, John Laurens."

"Is he alright?" Hamilton almost bolted out of his seat, yet Lafayette placed a gentle grip on his lap.

Thomas Jefferson smiled in a rather warm way. "On the contrary. He had a sort of episode out on the sidewalk. Tears streaming down his face, sputtering everything and nothing... I felt absolutely _awful_ , let me tell you, but I didn't want one of my employee's friend to be sentence to a home, so I took him in and we are absolutely sure that someone such as you donating a kidney or two for our bank would certainly save the boy."

Hamilton's face went cold, his hands shaking nervously in his lap. "I... Where is he?" He sat up, pushing away Lafayette's hand. "I won't give you a rat's ass if you don't show me where he is!"

"Whoa, calm down, Hamilton."

He took a step forward and jabbed a finger into Jefferson's velvet suit. "It's Alex."

Jefferson was not taken aback by this in the slightest. He almost expected it to take place. He lowered Hamilton's hand, smirking as he spoke. "I saved your boyfriend's freckled face. You should be practically owing your life to me. No," he spun around before lightly tapping his desk with his cane, "Hamilton, you should be crying over this desk for forgiveness, begging."

"Really? I could picture you more clearly bent over--"

Lafayette stood up and took a step toward the pair. "I apologize for Alexander. He does not mean what he says."

"Laf, I love you, but please let me kick this guy's ass." He made eye contact with Jefferson, who was grinning down toward him.

"I can press a button and get your lungs sent to a Russian military camp, Hamilton. I think you should just stay quiet in this conversation."


	9. Nephrectomy

"In order for me to save a person's sanity, I need kidneys. That makes very little sense," Alexander proposed, now sitting back down on the velvet couch, Lafayette next to him smoking a cigarette given to him as a sort of reward for calming Hamilton. "In fact, if it were to make sense, it would be so detestable, so... to say, _shitty_ , and... borderline unrelated to neurology, no, scratch that, completely unrelated to any form of the study of the brain that I really don't have a clue how you manage to scavenge that up."

Jefferson raised his eyebrows before smiling suggestively. He pressed a buzzer on his desk before lowering his head and murmuring into it, "Barricade the doors."

He stepped forward to fully embrace the form of the table in front of his desk, walking around it and grasping the sheet atop Laurens' body and he gently ripped it off swiftly, dropping the sheet onto the floor and beholding the man still resting in front of him.

Alex, upon standing up in shock to witness his lover's body strewn about on a coffee table as if it were an emergency room's cot, paced forward and pressed both his fingers against Laurens' chest to make certain that he was alive and that his body heat remained consistent. He then peered upward at Thomas, who was sneering down at him in a form of mockery. "Let's wait for when he wakes up."

"What did you do to him?" His voice was low and filled with torment, sending an exasperated glance up into the eyes of Jefferson.

Thomas turned his stare toward Laurens' face where he tugged his left eyelid upward in a jerking manner. Laurens immediately snapped awake, his pupils dilated and his face running cold. He stared up at Hamilton first with a look of confusion before sitting up and trembling slightly. He first felt the tips of his mouth, rubbing his lips before making eye contact with Alex.

"He is completely different now," Jefferson uttered as he motioned to a bandage wrapped around Laurens' skull. "Doctors said that while attempting to fix his mind, they removed his soul as well. A cold shell."

"What the fuck do you mean by that?" He backed up a step as he stared from Jefferson to his lover.

He smirked as he lowered himself down to stare toward Laurens. "He remembers you, and he knows you love him dearly, but... that's it," he slightly chuckled as he laid a small peck on the man's cheek, smiling upward at Hamilton.

"I will _slit_ your goddamn--" He raced forward, grabbing Jefferson by the neck in a tight grip and preparing to clobber him, before...

"And you will get me those kidneys, right?" He pulled his cane upward and held it underneath Laurens' jawline. "The original bid was..." he struggled under Hamilton's grasp, "One or two, but... for you, Hamilton, how about ten? Or twenty? The longer Laurens can suffer."

"Why would I kill for your trust?"

"It's your only choice, Hamilton." Alex then realized a sort of sliver echoing from Jefferson's mouth, his tongue quivering outward like a tentacle or a snake. He dotted his eyelashes, opening his eyes one last time to reveal slits like a cat's, the whites of his eyes now a sickly gold. He dropped his cane to the floor, etching his claws against Hamilton's grasp. "You don't mind to see them slaughtered. What if they're monsters like me? What if they're weaker than me? Would you end the world's suffering?"

"What is this?"

"This is reconciliation, Hamilton. You kill five men for their kidneys, you get Laurens back. Whether these men deserve it, or they're innocent, well, that's up to... that's up to you."

Alexander dropped Jefferson from his grip, allowing him to smirk even wider as he pulled a sheet over Laurens.

-

Alex was not one to kill, and neither was Lafayette, however, as they left the warehouse, Hamilton was near to breaking down into tears. To kill one man would have numbed him for life, but five? All would need to have committed some awful fraud to even deserve a slice on the arm, much less one to the throat. Yet Laurens, underneath a man's trembling hand, he must have been terrified. He must have been tortured up until all was removed. He clasped a hand over his mouth to prevent himself from vomiting, his heart aching deep within his chest.

Lafayette was silent as well, his boss pledging to hold one of his best companions as a sort of hostage unless his bounty was met. What did he think he was? A god above men? A prince above the peasantry? There had to be a way to meet his demands without ending an innocent man's life.

Alexander reasoned that he could either removed ten kidneys from ten people or kill five people to earn his ten kidneys. It would definitely take more time and skill to remove the kidneys and allow the person to live healthily than to slaughter and package. How would he even contain the kidneys? It almost seemed impossible to even imagine him pulling off such a scheme--

"My past lover is a doctor in there," Lafayette interrupted, his stare holding straight ahead as they stepped into his vehicle. "Mulligan. He is a surgeon. Do you believe that would help us?"

"A-Absolutely! Do... Do you believe he could sneak us ten kidneys? Maybe we can play them off as our bounty."

"No. It would jeopardize his life." Lafayette started the car, sighing to himself in a disappointed manner. "Do you have any ideas?"

"He could help us remove the kidneys from people instead of killing them off. If he does it skillfully enough, there would be no bloodshed, and each party would win. Perhaps we can... We can ask some of our friends to donate in order to save Laurens! Maybe other people who work there, other recruits--"

"Alexander, this is not legal. This is not right either, no?"

"Then, let's call the police!"

"I believe Thomas' business has much more power than the police."

"Ask your lover to meet with us. We need a plan to how we're going to save Laurens."


	10. Gytrash

_Do you believe I am a monster?_

_Am I a cruel, unrelenting beast? Am I what the world fears in its trembling state? Is that what I encompass? Who are we to say that a man who lives to see the world fall is what brought about its crumble? Certainly, at a young age, being spoiled rotten until I was disposed right before the war, everyone around me who had given me the golden satisfaction of wealth being shredded by men on the opposing lines, did matter, yet as I had awakened in a pit near an old and musky cottage, my period of youth would seize._

_A woman fitted with claws and the teeth of a snarling, filthy dog scooped me up and examined me. She had licked my neck sheepishly before sinking him grip around it, sucking a few drops of blood out as she fixed me onto her sheep skin sleeping arrangement, engineering my small body as the years passed._

_Am I disgusting and troubling for crawling out of the woman's hold and dashing off to a nearby town where I was shown off as a young, demonic being, my body being stuffed into a sack and taken away by someone who pledged to dispose of me? He analyzed me further, noticing bite marks and skinned areas of soot and silt along my ankles where the woman had branded me with sweltering metal chains. The man noticed my deformities, my sudden developments after sleeping for years in the ghoul's bed. He remarked me as a sort of spirit and left me for dead._

_Was I to blame for being scarred this way? My nails formed curves, teeth sharpened, eyes slit._

-

"Mr. Jefferson?"

"What is it, Burr?" Thomas was seated, his back facing his office door. His desaturated lips were coated around a cigar, the room filled with a dusty finish as the corners of his mouth faltered and his attention remained at the novel in his grips. "You are late."

"Yes, I believe I am. I have brought great news to the health of my wife. Her state is still rather grim, yet the doctors believe her recovery may somehow surface if they--"

Thomas spun his chair to face Burr, who had taken a seat on the velvet couch. "Stomach cancer. You know, my good friend from the fields died from that. They believed a few leaves could cure it. No such luck, Burr. He died a painful death, locked away in a dark room as his skin rotted, but you're right. Your wife is safe and is actually probably living just fine in her little hospital room. She's not suffering at all."

Aaron gulped back saliva before continuing, "Did the heart surgery go as planned?"

"That was a week ago, Burr. I'm fine. What we must speak about is your current employment status. You haven't donated a single cell in a month."

"My wife is in such grave condition that we had to stay in hospice for such a while."

Jefferson stood up, dust trickling off his dress pants as he pulled out the cane from underneath the desk in a quick swoop. His brittle skin and plastic bones had dwindled over the years, and as he quietly shifted around the desk, he leaned back and stared upward at the ceiling. His lips were coated in thought, his eyes dry from lack of hydration or much contact with whatever was outside his office in months. "You are currently much younger than I am, but I'll live much longer."

"You are far wealthier than me. I'm sure you will."

"It has nothing to do with money, Burr. If it were, I could die a sinless man, but here I am, owning the biggest company this side of New York and ending the lives of the innocent for higher wages. You ever think about yourself in that way?"

"I can't say that I do."

"You ever think that you are what's wrong with everything? You are what needs to be fixed?"

Burr adjusted his posture and shook his head furiously. "I cannot relate."

"Do you know a man named Hamilton?"

There was a brief bit of silence between them. After a few seconds, Jefferson stared back up at the ceiling and laughed heartily before sinking in a dull grin. "I met with him today. He has this young lover that I just can't seem to get enough of... Dark brown curls, freckles like stars, voice warm as charcoal...I would do anything to have him all to myself, Burr... Anything to make him happy. Hamilton just needs to get out of the picture, if you understand. The boy is such a beautiful little specimen... In all my years, I have never seen such a man stumble into my view."

"If you need my help with anything--"

Jefferson furiously shook his head. "Hamilton will soon be nothing."

_There have been millions born since I became the being I am now. Every single one is the same. Same face, voices at similar frequencies... All of them have shared the same trait as being corroded by sin. I have married women, had affairs with men, drank until I could barely speak. I was the peak of darkness, at least in my eyes. I never killed, yet I remember feeling alive for the first time._

_I could still remember the night that I saw him._

_He walked down the cold street during one of the bleakest nights of my life. Fifteenth job, fifth wife, lost. Maybe it wasn't that emotionally traumatic--I had practically relived the same day over and over for the past century--yet once I saw him, the color faded and the sound seized._

_A car parked around halfway down the street, the frost settling as a man in a thick sweatshirt leaped out. He slammed the door and had crossed the street as I leaned against a brick wall and smoked a cigarette butt away to its very last puff. I had been staring at the cars pass, the clouds roll in over the starry sky, the moon illuminating out onto the top of the buildings across the sidewalk. My mouth tasted as if it were on fire and my heart raced in my chest as I turned my head to the side._

_The love of my life was being attacked._

_Yet I simply watched on._

_In all my years, for centuries and decades and months and weeks and days, minutes upon minutes of countless words, colors, numbers, binary, milliseconds, hours, every hour of every day thinking about this man, thinking about this very second that I waited, I waited, I watched on and I waited. A thousand thoughts passed by as I watched on, the screams bouncing off the innerworkings of my mind. A monster had taken away the warmth from this minute, this second, this moment, this perfect part of my life that was supposed to be mine, not this monster's for his selfish little tic-tac-toe game._

_I stepped forward._

_I ran forward._

_It was too late, wasn't it? I didn't seem to care, as at the time, once I had noticed that my savior was lost to this beast's hand, my hand was around his neck, his life line. I needed to take this man's life. I needed to take what this man had taken from me, my life, my meaning, my purpose._

_I had taken one man's life._

_Do you believe I am a monster?_


	11. Gallophile (Reprise)

Alexander hurried home once Lafayette dropped him off, asking for a few minutes of time by himself if Lafayette would like to join him for the night and, if not, to leave quickly, as his heart had grown painful against his chest and tears soaked the bottom of his eyes. Nonetheless, Laf decided to join the other, grasping his hand as they stepped up the staircase to his apartment, his legs sore from the tiresome day.

" _Mon ami_ \--"

Alex stopped in his tracks. "I am not your love." He ripped his hand from Lafayette's and continued up the staircase, his face blushing as he stomped on. Lafayette remained up on the step, halfway to the stop before he turned to face the bottom. He began to walk down and stopped once he was standing at one of the few remaining steps, turning to catch a glimpse of Hamilton before he disappeared into the hallway.

"Is this it?"

Hamilton paused and turned slightly, facing Lafayette with one eye. "If I hadn't been with you, Laurens wouldn't be in this situation."

"Laurens invited me to spend the night with you. I will not judge a man's kinks," he added, leaping up the staircase toward Alex, "And I truly believe you are the most elegant beauty I have seen."

"You're a one night stand, Laf! You're not something that sticks around for more than a day," Alex spat, his eyes becoming more and more moist as he continued on. "I love Laurens with all my heart, Lafayette. He was there for me every second of every single day." He covered his mouth and sat down at the top of the staircase, tears stinging his eyes as he stared up at the ceiling. "And all of this is happening because he wanted to do something nice for me."

The other went silent before clearing his throat again. "A-Alex, what... What do you not like in me? I would do anything for you."

"I've known you for like five hours, you French fuck."

Alex covered his face for a few seconds and when he finally lowered his fingers, Lafayette was next to him. He yanked the scrunchie pulling his hair back out into his hand, letting his fluff pour out. He rubbed the section between his eyes and sighed, letting his palms hit the carpet as he groaned loudly. "Alexander, the night is not over yet." He grasped Hamilton's palm.

"It's six AM."

"There is still a way to overtake Jefferson. My lover..." he stood up, staring down the staircase, "I will persuade him. I will do this for you, Alexander. He and I will gather Jefferson's bounty."

"You... you really don't have to--"

He stepped down a few stairs. "We will figure out a plan, and once we do, you and I will bring the kidneys to Thomas Jefferson. We will save our love Laurens."

" _Our_?--Well, I mean, thank you. I... You really don't need to do this for me, Laf."

"Yes, I do. I _smashed_ you in the ass, and now I am going to have to _save_ your ass." He seemed proud at that statement.

Hamilton placed both his hands over his face and groaned in disappointment after hearing the statement, seeing Lafayette's smirk of pride. "Well, I mean..." He sighed as he shoved both his hands into his pocket. "I have to repay you, for doing this for me. No, for at least planning to help me with this Laurens situation. That really does mean the world to me, Laf..." He had very little clue how he was feeling such emotions at this current moment. Just a second ago, he was resenting Lafayette and everything that had happened to them both during the night. "Why don't we have a little... round two? Just for the night... You did say the night's not over yet."

"It is not... and it never will be."

"That was even cornier than the last thing you said." He slowly moved closer to him, holding his tired arms around Lafayette's waist. He leaned in like a lost kitten, the other's heartbeat radiating in his ear. "Laurens means everything--"

"He is all you have, Alexander, I know. I want what we all have to be strong."

He dried his tears with his sleeve. "Do you think there is a way to accomplish this without, you know, hurting anyone?"

"There is a way. It is illegal, but it will not directly harm anybody in the slightest. I will make sure of it." He stood up, holding Alexander's hand as he lead him through the doorway to where the hallway of apartments were. Alex, in a daze of relief, followed after him, inserting the key into his room and pressing open the door after. "Are you feeling up to it, _mon ami_?"

"Oh, hell yes."

-

The wine bottle that was saved near the top of one of the cupboards was now laying cracked next to the couch, as well as a package of beer cans half ripped through and the other portion poorly sorted into the open fridge. The radio on the kitchen counter was blasting, a mixture of cheesy 80s rock songs that emanated a dizzy feeling of love and compassion as well as modern pop hits. Was it REO or Foster? Phil Collins, maybe? It was hard to tell, the mix violently bouncing off the walls as Hamilton lay tired on Lafayette's chest as he checked his phone.

"It's... one PM."

"We have not done anything in seven hours," Laf murmured, the hazy sunlight filling the room.

Hamilton smiled roughly. "I had my first," he yawned, "Day at work today. I'll call in later and say I'm sick."

"The wine did not phase you, did it?"

Alex laughed sheepishly to himself. "I'm no lightweight, Laf... I have _never_ been drunk. It takes me, like," he paused, "A bunch... to just get drunk. Tipsy? I... maybe. Maybe I am a bit. But I'm not drunk yet."

The corners of Lafayette's mouth pointed up to his eyes as he shut them, breathing deeply. "I have never been drunk as well, ever since college."

"Pfft, yeah."

"Did you attend college?" He rolled his shoulders back into the pillows on the couch, placing his fingers through the back of Alexander's hair, brushing through it as his stormy eyes stared upward at the ceiling. "I am currently working on starting a business; it will be quite a challenge in this lovely city. I really have no idea why I moved here when anywhere else would be better."

Hamilton rolled his eyes. "Double major for me. I came out during... junior? Yeah, junior year, to my fosters."

"'Fosters'?"

He diverted his eyes to one side, leaning further into Laf. "Yeah, foster parents. Anyway... they were pretty supportive. My friends were not so much. They knew I was bi, so they just told me to date girls and pretend that whole other side of me was just that, just part of who I was. They didn't really know I was, uh, more male-leaning? But I was still into females, you know, but not the ones that were, like, really petite and--"

"I am more into _les filles_ , Hamilton. That is all you need to know." He pressed his lips gently against the other's, biting the bottom gently. As they shared a harsh embrace, Alexander backed his head away from Laf.

He smirked slightly. "Do you get more aggressive when you're drunk?"

"Neither of us are drunk, Alexander."

"When you said you wanted to do some stuff... we're not even tipsy. I think we can do what you wanted."

"Are you up for it?" He raised his eyebrows.

Alexander bit his lip before realizing he was fully erect, his crotch just low enough under Lafayette's to barely graze it. Upon feeling his throbbing cock against his pants, he felt the subtle need to relieve it. He had very little clue why at this moment that he had a boner, just laying on top of someone he cared deeply for, yet he was feeling rather daring as of right now and smirked. "Why not?"

"Can we... experiment?"

"In what way?"

"In college, I learned of something known as the 'hatefuck'."

"That's... we don't hate each other, Laf."

"We can pretend." A playful smile crept onto his lips as he brushed his tongue against his lips and whispered, "You do like it when I speak--"

His eyes went wide and he coughed, "French? Yeah. I don't know. There's just something about it... Makes me shake just listening to it. Like, goddamn, I've never spoken this personally before to anybody besides Laurens, and all I needed was... I really don't know, exactly."

" _Salope_ , stand up."

Alexander did as he was told, rising to his rather average height of 5'7". "Here's the thing, Laf," he inserted as Lafayette stood up, "We can't just--"

Hamilton then realized his was slammed against a wall, a slight moan rising from his throat as Lafayette held his mouth against his, pressing his fingers against the wall before leading his hands down and unzipping Alex's garments, grasping at his shaft as if he were about to crush it beneath his fingers. The other pressed his palms against Laf's back, inching fast down to his upper thigh, where he began gripping nervously.

"I am not very good at being a dick to you," Lafayette laughed roughly.

"I wish I was hatefucking Jefferson right now."

A sharp silence filled the room. Lafayette stepped back, narrowing his eyes into Alexander's before turning and grabbing his phone. "Do not say anything of praise to that man."

"I just thought that... since you and I get along so well, maybe shaming Jefferson would have gone easier--"

Lafayette turned to Alexander quickly. "You take a century old _nain rouge_ and you fit him into a twenty-year-old's body. He is a creature without respect, Alexander. I work for him so I can avoid him."

"I... It was not serious--"

"Do not even mention that man's name," he added, marching off to the door as he rubbed his eyes. "Alex, I will gather those kidneys for you with my bare hands if it means strangling that man to pieces. He is a lion in a sea of prey." He slammed the apartment's entryway, leaving the other against the wall, his skin pale.


	12. Dipsomania

What would it be like for Hamilton to go a week without Laurens, or really anyone, for that matter? His mouth tasted roughly of alcohol and toothpaste due to the fact he had gone from barely a drink a week to surviving off beverages and turning up to work piss drunk. Every night, he would come home and wait for Lafayette to arrive with the bounty, the key to Laurens.

He would then rush to the bathroom and vomit up whatever liquids he had consumed during the day. He would spend up to an hour every morning in the shower, scratching at his skin and plucking at his eyelashes, before spending the next two hours masturbating and drinking, maybe throwing in a granola bar if he was feeling significantly hunger-ridden. His eyes held bags and his skin had blemishes across his neck and sides. Alex hadn't slept through a night in seven days, yet it felt like years without anyone by his side. The only social contact he had were the poor English of his bosses and the chatter on the bus.

He usually wasn't like this. He was a go-getter, a person who always jumped first and asked questions later, yet something snapped deep inside him. After a few more weeks without his love, he had dropped fourteen pounds and dazed off during work, barely staying conscious.

A fateful day then arrived when a curious knock arrived at Hamilton's door during a bit of... "personal" time. He stood up, batted his eyes, and stumbled over to the door, where he pushed open the door slightly. The door was then kicked forward, sending Alex back to the side as Lafayette and a man slightly taller than Alex crumbled in, the muscular one tugging along a large, chilly box.

"Alexander! What is--" He paused the other one, glancing around at the heaps of beer bottles and tissues spread around the apartment. "What has happened?"

"Who's the guy?"

Lafayette wrapped an arm around the other man. "This is Hercules. Hercules Mulligan. I call him my miracle worker. He searched all of this district for convicts, criminals... you name it. We have gathered ten kidneys, each a different size and model." He ripped open the cooler, displaying the titular organs wrapped in a sort of liquid sealant. "Could you just adore this man? He is the wonder of our lives."

"Did you... did you kill for them?"

Lafayette stopped speaking and turned to Hercules, who sighed gently. "They weren't humans, Alexander. They were running from the law. It was either they rot in jail or become part of the economy." Upon noticing Alexander's disappointment and disgust, he slammed the cooler shut. "You're trading the lives of five scum for one--"

"If you look at the state of this apartment, I believe we are trading five lives for two, Hercules."

"One!" Alexander interjected, his face turning a dull red. "I never wanted to give Jefferson the satisfaction of having another five deaths under his belt. What did these people even do?"

"Murders, rape, tax fraud... They're a cesspool of shit, Alex."

"Yeah, well, so am I! Look at this. Look at this place that I live in." Alex extended an arm out to the apartment surrounding him. "Every beast needs a cave, and I seem to have found one."

Lafayette rolled his eyes and turned to the door, grabbing Mulligan by his arm. "If Alexander wants to be ungrateful, then let us let him."

He dropped the cooler, stumbling out of the apartment as Lafayette covered his face with his forearm and exited. Alexander was left in the desolate room, a box filled with kidneys in front of him. He leaned down toward it before realizing he had very little chance of logging this box to the warehouse on foot, and since he did not have a vehicle, Lafayette would be his only choice. He stepped out of the apartment, glancing down the staircase to see Mulligan and Lafayette leaving.

"Hey, can you help me bring this to Jeffer--the warehouse."

Lafayette turned and shot him a disgruntled glare. "I am not visiting that man again."

"I'll bring it in, you just need to drop me off."

"...Alright, and if I hear anything about an affair..." he grumbled to himself before turning away, "I still cannot believe you said that."

"Said what?" He dropped down a step, clocking his head to the side in a questioning manner. Mulligan nodded and ran up the stairs, passed Hamilton, and entered the apartment for the cooler.

He adjusted his voice. "Said you would enjoy some sort of... session with that monster, as if all the love I had given was not enough."

"I... I was drunk, right?"

"Do you remember it, Alexander?" He grinned slightly. "Do you remember it at all?"

He sighed in response to that question. "If I have to be honest, the last few weeks have just been a blur... I would go into the details, but I'm not proud of them." Alex sat down on the staircase. "I'm not really proud of any of my choices."

"Maybe that is true." He stared upward at Mulligan pulling the cooler down the stairs. "Load it into the car and we will be on our way."

"Lafayette, we can work this out--"

"I did not believe you would cherish our relationship enough to do such a thing." He turned to the doorway, pushing it open and exposing Hamilton to the extremely bright sunshine. "You seem to not know what you want. You offer me your love and then detest me." He stepped out onto the sidewalk, leading Mulligan to the parked car in the alleyway. "What if I am one of your poor choices?"

"Lafayette, if this is because of Jefferson... I... I have no idea what came over me in that moment. I didn't mean it at all, Laf."

"That is a man that will use your love." As he said this, his companion, Mulligan, pulled the cooler up into the trunk of the car, slamming the cap in its wake. "He certainly used mine, and he will use yours. He uses everyone. He has never killed because, well, he gets others to do it for him. I do not want you to have that fate, Alexander."

Alex slowly skittered out of the building and sat into the passenger seat of the vehicle. "It was a fantasy, which sounds terrible."

"A fantasy? You want to ride that sack of trash like a chariot?" Mulligan commented, sitting in the backseat as Lafayette took his seat.

"I... Whenever I think about him, I just feel this emotion deep inside me. There's something he does to me."

"And I never did that to you, _mon ami_?"

Alex sighed as he stared off. "No... No, I've only felt compassion for Laurens. It was lust for you... and for Jefferson, it's something else."

"Something else? How vague can you be?"

"Laf, if I could explain it, I would tell you right now." He began contemplating how he could form the words. "When I see him, I just get so nervous in such a cold, lively way. I get starstruck, maybe." He glanced up through the skylight, trying to imagine or form an image of the man in his mind. "There is something so overpowering in him... I really can't explain it that well."

He groaned into his palm. "It is alright. It will pass."

"Hopefully."

"I hope so as well, Alexander."

The three were then silent before Mulligan snapped the silence's neck. "Let's turn on some jams."

Lafayette leaned forward and pressed lightly on the volume button. The radio kickstarted to life, an upbeat pop melody flooding the car as Mulligan scanned his phone for a certain topic. Alex propped his feet up against the dashboard, spreading his legs out in a diamond shape. Awkwardly, he turned to Lafayette and adjusted his posture. "This is going to sound weird as fuck, but... over the past few weeks, I've just been... doing certain things a lot and I kind of need to do a certain something--"

"Do you have pills to take or rituals to do?" He asked, concerned.

"N-No, it's more of... Not addiction, but...?

"Do you need to smoke something?"

Alex blushed before unzipping his pants. He leaned back into his seat to catch a view of Mulligan. "Y'all mind if I jerk off?"

Lafayette's face formed into complete disdain as he and Mulligan groaned violently. He wiped his eyes, "Why would you ask that?"

"So... you're... not fine with it. I can agree with that, actually."


	13. Malu

Once they had reached the door of the warehouse, cooler in tow and the doorman behind them, they began to realize that the ballroom had been transformed into that of a market space. A few stalls were selling strange metal devices, one was selling bracelet made from teeth, and another was painting a portrait with strange, black paint. The three pushed past the crowds, Hercules finally scooping up the box of organs and sprinting down the aisle to the office in the back of the main room. Alexander and Lafayette soon followed, Alex's sluggish walking speed irritating Laf only a bit.

Hercules knocked ferociously on the secretary's desk, alerting her attention. "Pegs, I have a delivery for Mr. Jefferson."

"Master Jefferson will be out in a second. Can you specify what package holds?"

"Kidney packages from escaped convicts. All healthy and ready for processing."

She smirked as she puffed up her elegant curls. "You think I'm going to let you by that easily, Herc? Open the case." She stepped out from behind her desk and nudged open the cooler with the tip of her heels. The cool air fluttered out into the open office, the smell of plastic and ammonia drenching the inside of the box. "Jefferson told me he was preparing something for... Alex, was the name?"

"Sure. Employee number 5256 will wait alongside me until the meeting is finished."

The speaker on the secretary's desk lit up. She gently pressed the button and Jefferson's voice could be heard deep within the fuzz of the microphone. "Alright, we're finished. Let them in."

She stood up and, with her delicate, painted fingers, pressed a few buttons beside the vault-like door. It pressed open as Alex trudged inside, with Lafayette waiting with the secretary, and finished with Mulligan who pulled the cooler along into the office before leaving. Alexander could make out that Jefferson's swivel chair was turned away from the door while Thomas was seated on the desk, his legs swept over the side as he examined his spindly, spider-like claws.

The secretary slammed the door behind them, locking it tight as Alex pointed to the cooler, pushing a stray hair back behind his ear. "There, ten kidneys! Where is Laurens?"

"Calm yourself, Hamilton. You're not looking so well." A mock expression of concern appeared plastered over the man's face. "I could taste the vodka from here... You're not thinking of poisoning this prize with brandy, are you?"

He took a step forward, bracing himself from his confident exasperation and deceit. "Don't even think about touching him."

"You should have added that to the deal four weeks ago! I've taken a bit of a liking to this one. Follows everything I want to do because, well... can't speak, can't move well, can't do much of anything, really. In fact," he slithered over to the seat before spinning it slightly for it to face Alexander, Laurens sitting in it with a silk rope wrapped around his eyes, running faintly over his nose. "He's quite the lover, isn't our dear Laurens? I cannot believe I saved him all those nights ago. Such a shame we had to remove so much--"

"Cut it. I don't know what happened that night, but I know someone like you would never do that." He stepped toward Laurens, placing his hand beneath the other's chin. He lifted him up by his jawline, staring into his rope, yearning for eye contact. A sudden punch of emotions flooded Alexander's mind as he turned back to Jefferson. "You..."

He smirked downward at the other man. "He slept with me every night. When it was cold in these December days, I cuddled close to him, breathing on his neck." He knelt down to get closer to Laurens' level. "I swear I didn't do anything more than that, but... I held him dearly, and we kissed daily. It was so wonderful, him and I. But... I must confess...one night, as I drew close to my dear Laurens, I realized that his soul was still deep inside him. His memories, his thoughts, all of that existed. He can hear us right now, yet all he can do is blink. That's why I wrapped this soft cloth around his face, so I wouldn't have to see his eyes that remind me of you." He gently tugged the rope upward, revealing Laurens' dark eyes blinking slightly. His pupil dilated as he stared into Alexander's eyes. "I'll leave you two alone for a bit."

Thomas adjusted himself with his cane before skittering over to the vault, knocking on it and allowing it to open. Once it was closed, Alex realized he was still staring into his lover's eyes throughout this time.

How could he converse with a man who could not speak, could not move? He placed both hands on Laurens' shoulder, his eyes blinking once, before he finally realized what he could do. He allowed himself to crumble forward, holding Laurens in a warm embrace as a few tears leaked out his tired eyes. Laurens sat motionless. "O-Okay, blink once for yes, twice for no... Do you feel any pain? Anything at all, I swear..."

One blink.

He smiled warmly as he wiped his tears, staring into Laurens' eyes. That might have been a fluke, however, so he tested it once more with something he knew Laurens could answer. "You are twenty-six, right?"

One blink.

"And I am twenty-three."

One blink.

"And we met at a bar three years ago while I was in college."

One blink.

"And I was the most attractive guy there."

Two blinks.

Alex handed him a pursed smile. "Yeah, right, and then you decided to get me a drink, on the house, because I had finals and they sucked, and you understood."

One blink.

"And then we texted for a few months before you drove to my dorm... I remember the first time we kissed... I'm going to be honest, I almost fainted. I thought it was a dream, and you planned summer and then I moved in..."

One blink.

"We had bubble tea for the first time and I hated it. You got 70% sugar with green tea... I just ordered what you had."

One blink.

"Then your dad found out what we had done and..." He paused, shaking his head furiously. "No, we had something... Do you miss him?"

There was a pause before one blink.

"Did he... did Jefferson do anything that... pushed your boundaries?" He was unsure if that question would convey what he meant.

Laurens' eyes went wide as he went still, both his and Alexander's heart rate bouncing out of their chests. Alex cocked his head to the side in a puzzled manner before feeling a breath on his cold neck. It wasn't necessarily breathing on his neck, but... a slimy liquid dripped down his head. He turned, only to see Jefferson facing him with his long tongue out between his lips, looming halfway between his neck and his collarbone.

Alexander was then pressed against the wallpapered wall next to Laurens' chair, Jefferson looming over him with a cruel grimace on his face. His eyes were slits once again, yet this time more of an orange texture than a sickly yellow. He then turned slowly back to the man in the swivel chair and dipped slowly down to him before retracting his tongue and pursing his lips against the other's, quickly casting out his tentacle-like organ once more deep into Laurens' mouth. He first attempted to gag, yet he lacked the capacity. His eyes simply dilated before he passed out, his eyes slowly closing.

Jefferson stood up, his shoulders shaking as he pressed his left hand against his chest. "He is poisoned by you. I can... I can gently feel your heartbeat deep within him, his voice calling out in tears. He is in so much _pain_ , he wishes he could scream, but..." he turned slowly to Hamilton, who was now pressed against the wall, "I... I need ten lungs quickly." He slammed Alexander away from his desk, pushing him toward the sitting area. "Return once you bring another bounty."

"Wha--"

"Please." He rose his voice before calming himself. "Just let me be here."


	14. Abusion

He had been staring at him for a least a few minutes before he almost snapped out of his trance, sitting on the velvet couch as he watched his love in the swivel chair, resting. Watching his eyes open was so uncomfortable to his shredded heart that the blindfold was wrapped around his hand for hours on end. There was nothing he could do except watch his love drift in and out of consciousness, the man's heart yearning for Alexander.

Thomas then sat up, grazing his hand over his desk before pressing the speaker. He pressed his lips against it, whispering into the microphone, "Please send in 4130, Margarita." His words were quick and emotionless as he stood back and calmed himself from tears.

He wished so drowsily that his love would return to his life, yet there was nothing left for him. They could attempt to communicate, but Alexander and plagued him. He was no longer the innocent man he had seen years ago. He was Hamilton's own flesh, his soul. He was not merely John Laurens, he was something more than that. However, Jefferson needed to know for sure.

Once Madison entered his dwelling, Jefferson was practically shaking with anxiety. He leaned against the desk, beckoning the other to take a seat as he formed the words together in his mind.

"I need you to replenish his mind. Is it possible, even, to do that?" His heart raced with anticipation.

The look upon Madison's face made his back run cold and his spine tingle. He covered his mouth with his palm, sighing gently as he faced his lover. James sat up on the velvet couch, pressing his cuffs together as he contemplated, counting every opinion and every word that could go against his thoughts. Perhaps it would be possible, but most likely not. The mind of Laurens has been packed away in some sort of containment unit. Whether or not that unit was still accessible was not in Madison's memory.

"If we can find the mind, it may be able to be fitted once again. However, some fragments might be lost during the ripping and assembly process. It is all up to luck, Thomas."

"I am willing to pay as much as I can--"

Madison adjusted his posture as he stared upward at Jefferson. "It is not a matter of funds. It is a matter of skill." He stood up and made his way over to Laurens, handing Jefferson a look before tugging off the man's blindfold. He was most certainly awake. "How much do you really want to extort Hamilton?"

"After this... I will consider letting him go. Ten kidneys and ten lungs is sure to bring in quite a bit."

"You don't care about the money, do you?"

"Do you want honesty, or...?" He pushed a piece of hair out of Laurens' face, caressing his soft skin gently with his grip. "I don't care for Hamilton--not in the slightest--yet... seeing Laurens in a state of melancholy... it destroys me inside. My deepest core has been ripped apart, James. I feel like such a freak."

He nodded as he returned to his seat. "I understand. Thomas, I will call in all I can. If it works, it surely will be something to behold."

Jefferson smiled warmly, staring deep into the eyes of Laurens. His brown eyes reflected his own, his fluffy locks seeming rather reclusive and his eyes seeming to hold a deeper shadow. "I just fear that if I give him a will, a purpose... I will lose him. The love of my life, lost to my own hand. I could not forgive myself from even considering to lessen my hold over him or his kind eyes. He is all I could ever want, James."

"What about... what about another love? There are so many people just on this street, let alone the--"

"The surgery will take place tonight." Jefferson turned to face Madison, his face coated with sweat. "While I... get on with some business... please ready him for what is about to happen. This must go off without a hitch." He swiftly walked over to his coat hanger and pulled off his magenta overcoat, wrapping it around his thin body before pressing the "Release" button near the door.

Madison rose to his feet and extended a hand. "I will try my best."

"You must."

 

Alexander finally had assembled the new TV he had purchased from a neighbor. It was rather cheap--the shape being around one foot by one foot--and seemed low-quality, but anything to get his mind over his pants and the impatience deep in his soul from waiting for Lafayette to return with the new set of organs was good enough to satisfy him. He pressed a few buttons on his remote.

"Thirty killed in theater shoot--"

"President's statement about--"

"The internet is for por--"

"Are we going to have a--?"

"So, bye bye Miss American--"

"In the great, dark beyond..."

He settled on some sort of documentary. Alexander mainly kept it on for background noise as he relaxed after a night of work, yet tonight, he knew that resting would only draw his mind closer to the image of Lafayette and Laurens. His heart rested deep and cold in his chest, yearning for someone's gentle grasp against it. He licked his lips warmly as he laid down, staring up at the ceiling.

Alex imagined Laurens' hair, his skin, his eyes. His brown pits from pupils. He was the most beautiful man that he had seen in all his years. Why would Jefferson take that away from him?

The doorbell to the apartment rang, and as he struggled to zip up his pants and shuffled towards it, he called out, "It's open!"

A mouth crept out through the crack of the door. "Hamilton?"

He stopped in his track, his fingernails digging into his jean pockets. His heart almost stopped deep within his chest, his ribs shaking as he backed away from the door. "Get... Get back!"

"I... I just want to talk!" Jefferson threw open the door, his face blushing as he took a step inside, closer to the other man. "It's about Laurens."

"If you ever hurt him a little--!"

He took another step further. "I can save his mind."

Alexander went silent, his mouth hanging open as he shook nervously. "W-What?"

"It's happening, right now, Alex." He slammed the door behind him holding his face in his hands as he breathed deeply. "I want to help you."

"You've... you've done enough." I backed up quickly to the wall. "If you even lay a finger on me, I'll... just leave me alone."

"Alex--"

" _Get the hell out of my house._ " His voice was harsh and cold as he turned into his kitchen to grab a weapon to defend himself with. He grabbed a knife from out of an old, rickety drawer, holding it close to his chest. "Take another fucking step. I dare you."

Jefferson lowered his hands, staring down at the floor before pulling out a small, black box. He started walking towards Hamilton, extending his arm. "You think I would leave the warehouse without protection? You will speak to me." The box sparked, revealing the taser as he clenched his teeth beneath his lips. "It really didn't have to come to this, but I'll do it for Laurens--"

"You don't know anything about Laurens!"

"Get on the floor, Alex."


	15. Jasperated

"What?"

"I..." Jefferson slammed the apartment door shut, clenching his teeth once more. "Get on the floor, Hamilton. We have to talk about Laurens."

He lowered himself as he was told and covered his face with his palms. "Stay back, you _sick fuck_." His heart raced deep within his chest as he clutched at his t-shirt, breathing faster now as he stared upward at Jefferson. The other man lowered himself and sat down, his knees in front of his face as he leaned backward, holding the taser close to his torso.

"I love him so much," he murmured, gripping the taser closely to his overcoat. "I stare in Laurens' eyes every night and I see you, Hamilton."

"W-Why... _Get away from me_." He shuffle back, close to the ground, as he backed up into the corner of his kitchen. "This is a trap. I'm going to be confused or something and you're going to kill me on the spot. I know it."

He extended a hand outward to the other. "Alex--"

"Don't say my name."

"Let me explain."

"I would rather die than speak to you, you... you goddamn monster." His voice was cold and shaking as he drew a knife, standing up once he brushed against the wall. "You'll burn in hell with all your companions. Wherever I end up, I'll watch you roast alive, your old skin and rusty bones fueling the fireplaces in heaven, your voice harming me... never again. I'll never let you hurt anyone ever again--" He stepped forward, drawing his cutting knife as he lunged on top of the other man, holding the weapon over his head. Thomas had to think quickly.

Jefferson sunk the taser close to Hamilton's rib, breathing deeply as he growled ominously. "Laurens is dead."

Hamilton inhaled before lowering his arms and dropping the knife to the side. "...what?"

Thomas had not planned to state such a thing, such a lie, but if it caused Hamilton to drop his weapon, he was well prepared to continue this conversation. "Lafayette, Marquis de Lafayette... killed him. Lured him behind the warehouse and stole his organs to sell them to me as his own. He really wanted a full weekend of straight, vanilla intercourse. Laurens' life was worth that."

He breathed deeply and slowly, his arms falling off to either edge of Jefferson and tears clouding his face. "Y-You... You freak... M-My love..."

"Dead."

"You're... You must be lying to me."

"I keep his lungs in my desk drawer."

"You sicken every part of me." He stood up, wiping his face as he stomped off and curled up onto the couch. "There's no reason to live without the love of your life, Jefferson... You killed my only--" He paused, sitting up as he stared perplexed into Jefferson's face as he arrived to his feet. "But... Laurens could not move in his state. You told me yourself... and if Lafayette killed him, why weren't you watching him? Why wasn't he by your side?" Hamilton began walking over to Jefferson, smiling harshly. "And why would Lafayette kill Laurens if he was hunting lungs for me, for you?"

Jefferson's face went cold as he stood up. "I... You're pretty clever, Hamilton." He covered his anxiety with a smirk. "Fine, then. I came to tell you I am saving Laurens. We will be restoring his mind due to my generosity."

"Ah, so I can kill you and Laurens will be waiting for me at the warehouse!" He gripped the knife with one fist and combed his hair back with the other.

"Not quite--"

"I... I used to have some sort of strange attraction to you." He paced forward, dragging his feet as he gripped his sharp object. "I wanted to," he breathed deeply, standing over Jefferson as he held the blunt of it between his fist, "Fuck you senseless. I've been the bottom bitch for long enough... You're not getting out of this alive, you _monster_ \--"

"Then let me soothe your fantasy." He stood up calmly, his voice hushed as he breathed in deeply. "Your tongue probably tastes like Laurens. I would..." he sighed, "Kill for that sensation deep in my mouth..."

He leaned forward, pressing his mouth gently against Hamilton's, hanging there slightly as he pressured smoothly, before smirking slightly and opening his eyes. He then dove closer, more tongue oozing out of his lips as he overtook Alexander. Thomas pushed him backward, forcing Hamilton against the kitchen counter and grasping at his neck, pressing further and further in.

Alexander immediately was overcome with sudden attraction, his heart racing as he bit back once Jefferson reached the back of his throat. He lowered his hands to his crotch, unzipping his own jeans slowly as he grasped at Jefferson's bulge, swearing under his breath as he bit Thomas' upper lip. "You're begging for me, aren't you?"

Jefferson slunk out of Hamilton's mouth, stretching his eyebrows upward as he lowered his hands down near Alexander's cock, gripping it in a teasing manner before digging his teeth into Hamilton's neck. He bit down deeply on small pieces of Alex's skin, every moment he groaned leaving him with a tender squeeze of his member. "God damn it... Will you shut it?" Jefferson was immediately hit with an idea.

He stepped back from Hamilton, who was leaning against the counter in a mess of himself. His cock was throbbing deep in his lower core and he was sweating from head to toe. Alex almost felt like vomiting, he was so shaken by Jefferson. "What... what are you doing?" He didn't mean for his voice to come off as sappy as it did and he quickly asserted himself. "You think you're cute? You couldn't give me an orgasm if you had a dick as long as your cane."

He quickly began rummaging through the kitchen drawers. "Where is your duct tape?"

"Duct tape? Did you break a bone or something?" Alex turned around and pulled out a roll of striped green-and-black duct tape from one of the utensil drawers. "Here you have it, fucker."

"Snide. Anyway, close your mouth." He leaned against Alexander, grasping the tape as he ripped a piece off. Hamilton braced his teeth, growling slightly as the length of duct tape was smothered across his lips. He attempted to comment, but could only muster a dull murmur as Jefferson laughed to himself. "Finally, I don't have to hear your annoying voice anymore, Hamilton." He flipped Alexander over so his hips were against the counter, a small protest emanating out from him. "How about... we roleplay a little bit? Any suggestions? Oh... wait..." He combed a piece of Alexander's hair back.

Alex gripped hard on Jefferson's inner thigh, leading him to bend over the other's shoulder. "How about a little fantasy of mine that I've had for a while? You'll have to be my bottom bitch, as always." He ripped one side of the duct tape away from Hamilton's mouth. "Requests?"

"You are a freak of nature."

"I heard... downward dog? Wow, my hearing is surely something to see, isn't it?"

He furrowed his brow, thrusting his chest forward against the table and arching his lower back. "I don't know... You don't seem good enough to pull such a thing off."

"You underestimate me. Anyway, get down on all fours, but... I have a little twist in store."

Alexander slowly lowered himself down to the floor, parallel to the counter. He laid himself out on his palms and knees, yet as he remained comfortable, Jefferson chuckled slightly. He blushed profusely before sputtering, "What? I did what you asked."

He nudged Alex's ankles before commenting, "Stand on your feet and arch your back downward. For a slut, you really don't know proper protocol." He unbuckled his jeans, allowing his erect cock to hover above Hamilton. "Also, every time you look back, I'll go slower. Just thought you'd like to know." He spat in his hand, rubbing it along his length and elongating the anticipation.

Alex waited for at least five seconds for Jefferson to begin. He could not seem to help moaning loudly with every shake, clenching his fists as he swore under his breath. Thomas' crotch meeting the tip of his entrance almost made him sputter. He arched his back deeper, halfway down to the floor as he quivered beneath Jefferson, biting his lip to prevent any sounds from escaping. He absolutely despised what pity he had become, this extremely dominant fantasy washing over him as he harshly attempted to pleasure himself even further.

"Ah, hell... Just... bite me, somewhere." He was so close to that burning desire. He could practically feel it beneath his eyelids.

Jefferson then pulled out from Alexander, a deep grin on his face as he buckled up his jeans. He turned away from the other man, snatching his taser and adjusting his overcoat as he stumbled off to the apartment door. He shrugged his shoulders toward Hamilton's shocked face, admitting, "I'll see you tomorrow, Hamilton."


	16. Malapert

The very first Christmas that Alex had spent with Laurens was one of coffees and gifts from JCPenney one year ago. They had just settled into their apartment--how crusty and dilapidated it was at the time, they will never tell--and it was just another night at the bar. Laurens was pouring a Peppermint Pat to one of the patrons as he cleaned a glass with a towel. Lafayette was down a few feet, attempting to grow out his stubble and was fitted with an ugly Christmas sweater.

Sitting at the bar were four ladies, all dressed in fluffy overcoats and expensive boots. One of them was drunkenly cuddling the other. It appeared to be the one in the yellow coat and one in a sort of red blazer. The other two--one with blue and one with pink--were chatting about gifts and sales at various boutiques.

"Ladies, may I propose a toast to the holiday season?" Laurens leaned forward, smirking as he cleaned the glass' interior.

The one in the pink yawned, laying a smooth glare in his direction. "In order to toast, you need drinks." Her ebony skin contrasted with her pink and white fur coat, her smile fading to distrust. "And I am not dropping another eight dollars for a minty rum."

"Come on. You four seem to be doing fine for yourselves."

"Yes, and I would like to keep it that way," she grinned, pushing her sunglasses down her nose as she stared up at him, "And it's Angelica."

"Eliza."

"And Peggy..."

"And Maria." She adjusted one of her locks as she drank from a warm glass of water. "We should probably head out, Pegs." Her voice was slow and as smooth as tar, her words leaking off her lips playfully. Maria took Peggy's grip and waved to Eliza, who had waved back with a smile of warmth. Angelica and Eliza turned back to Laurens, who was still cleaning the same glass.

He gave them an interested look. "How long has that pair been together?"

"A month. Inseparable."

"You must admit, they do look cute together." Eliza batted her eyes as she checked her phone from under the counter.

Angelica chuckled before turning away. "They look the exact same."

Laurens cocked his head to the side before turning to Lafayette, eyeing his ugly sweater suggestively as he smirked deeply. "You really didn't have to wear that, Laf." He smoothly walked over, glass dropped off in the dishwasher as he leaned across the counter. "But, I mean, it does make you look all cozy and shit."

"Yes, but does it go well with black jeans?"

Laurens was one slip of the tongue away from remarking, "I wish I was in your pants," but quickly pushed the thought out of his mind. He sat on the counter, grabbing the scarf off of the other man's neck and wrapped it around his own, grinning as he leaned back across the bar. He then leaned forward and placed his fingers under the other's chin. "It looks perfect."

"You are taken?"

"He's not here."

"You were never really faithful... Is a relationship really what you are looking for?"

"Trust me, Laf." He brushed a strand of hair back, his smile fading. "You're right. Sorry, I guess."

"Will he be coming later tonight?" Lafayette asked, changing the subject as he served a patron. "I have not met him yet."

Laurens shrugged as he assorted various glasses behind them. "He'll, uh, probably come once your shift ends, maybe. He has some errands to run. You know, the Alex excuse." He pulled out his phone from his jean pocket, checking his texts from his love at that moment.

Bebita - I'll stop at home before I come around by eight.  
  
Pap - hey can u grab a coffee for me  
  
Bebita - So... before I come, you want me to get you a coffee?  
  
Pap - yes  
  
Bebita - It's six. You'll never fall asleep.  
  
Pap - dont tell me how to live my life  
  
Bebita - Alright, fine. Peppermint, Gingerbread, or French Vanilla?  
  
Pap - aw fuck i didnt expect such a selection  
  
Pap - uhh gingerbread sounds pretty good  
  
Bebita - Okay... Do you want me to get you anything at the book store?  
  
Pap - surprise me  
  
Bebita - I'll do my best, Laurens.

  
  
  


They had planned a roleplay.

What had happened? What had this man become, before the other? Alexander started out so quiet, so tiring to himself, yet he was now here before Jefferson. He had not known whether or not he was so deeply turned on or if he was simply an object. He didn't even know if he was feeling fear or just deep tension as Thomas swore at him, remarking that duct tape and sliced clothing couldn't make for a satisfactory visit.

"Alex."

Silence.

Jefferson knelt over him, his fingers lacing over the other's paralyzed frame. "Alex."

"Y-Yes--"

"I didn't allow you to speak yet." Jefferson had him perfectly aligned on the bed (the comforter wrapped around his wrists). There was a small ice cube gently placed on the bridge of his shaft, creating such a discomfort deep inside him that Thomas could practically feel it as he positioned himself. "Tell me--before I add my favorite part--that this is indeed consensual, Hamilton."

"Ah... Just..."

"Just?"

He shifted his hips, expressing his displeasure as he attempted to spill the ice out onto the sheets. "The... the ice."

"What's the problem?"

Alex knew he was teasing and any words he attempted to leak onto Thomas' lips would end up spat back at him. "N-Nothing. I'm ready." He closed his eyes as he swallowed the saliva in his mouth, preparing himself for whatever would come next.

The only reason Thomas was doing any of this was because of what Hamilton had said yesterday. He was attracted to him? And he could use this to prevent being killed at Hamilton's hands? It was pure genius to continue whatever this... whatever this sick fantasy was... to allow Alexander to forget his sharp hatred for the man. It was absolutely the pinnacle of his planning, he hoped.

Thomas tore a strip of cloth from an old Christmas sweater and plastered it across Alexander's eyes as a sort of blindfold. "If any of it feels a bit strange for your innocent, little heart, just tell me," the man teased once more, smirking as he did it.

"Fuck off."

"No. We don't use that language here."

He realized he had broken character. "Oh, uh, apologies. W-What are you--?" Jefferson pressed another ice cube down into the base of Alexander's cock, sending a deep shivering down the other's neck. "Ugh..."

Thomas grinned once again, leaning forward as he pressed his gentle lips against the other's. The man gripped the stagnant member that was projecting from the other's lower abdomen. He gripped it deeply, shaking it forward and back, pressing his mouth closer and even deeper as Thomas progressed with his jabs. His tendril-like tongue sputtered against the roof of Hamilton's mouth. He then forced the tongue deeper and deeper until the very tip was licking the back of Alexander's throat. Underneath Jefferson, Alex riled his hips against him.

He bit Alexander's bottom lip as he proceeded to lure his hands to Alex's entrance, prodding it suggestively before circling it with his index finger. He slicked the tongue back into his mouth, opening his eyes and remarking, "You'll have to do more than that, Alex."

"I... I'm trying."

"Here. I'll help." He slunk his legs up around Alex's torso, allowing his shaft and tip to hover beneath his jawline. "I want to see your teeth."

Alex lowered his bottom jaw haphazardly, expecting Thomas' base to slip inside. He allowed it to move slowly, preventing Alex from stumbling or becoming excessively uncomfortable. Remembering this roleplay, he continued with his character. "Thank you."

"If it's your first time, I want to go slow." It had been one that Alex had suggested. A sort of "innocence lost" thing, yet since this was Alex's first roleplay, he was a bit rusty.

Thomas' cock was around halfway into Alex's mouth, which was a length that he deemed fit. He relaxed Hamilton back onto the pillow, laying on top of him as he comforted himself.

He retracted and laid across Alex, his dreary eyes tracing Hamilton's face as he gently touched the other's prodding member. "You're doing fine."

"T-Thanks."

"Don't be so nervous. What did you think I was going to do?"

He snickered slightly. "I'm just so tired, Thomas."

He untied the blindfold from around Hamilton's face, staring deeply into his perfectly carved eyes. "I've always been."


	17. Tempestive

*PREVIOUSLY*

He retracted and laid across Alex, his dreary eyes tracing Hamilton's face as he gently touched the other's prodding member. "You're doing fine."

"T-Thanks."

"Don't be so nervous. What did you think I was going to do?"

He snickered slightly. "I'm just so tired, Thomas."

He untied the blindfold from around Hamilton's face, staring deeply into his perfectly carved eyes. "I've always been."  
  
  
Alexander sighed beneath him, clocking his head back into the pillow as he stared upward at the ceiling, his pulse emanating into Jefferson's ear. "Hey, umm... Thomas? Can I just ask you a question?" He combed his fingers through his own hair, snagging it back into a makeshift ponytail before letting it spill out onto the sheets. "I literally don't know anything about you, and I'm not trying to be a--No, I _am_ trying to be a bitch about it. Fuck this roleplay." He sat up, making direct eye contact with the other. "Can you actually tell me something about you?"

He remained silent for a moment before sitting up and staring off into the wall. "About... what? It would be great if you weren't so vague."

"Like, your past."

His face went cold as he shook it violently, groaning to himself as he remembered a hundred-and-sixty-whatever years ago when he was prodded and poked for the spikes in his mouth, the curves of his fingers, the patch on the back of his neck. He didn't trust Hamilton at all, and he had never told a soul willingly what kind of creature he was, yet the sort of "monster" exterior that he held was enough to drive him insane if he had not spilled a bit of an explanation.

"Years ago... Well, you know how old I really am... I was cursed by this lady-demon creature. In order to properly--I guess--end her own suffering, she had to pass her soul onto me, which would take decades. She only managed to pass on a little bit, so I can sort of control everything."

"And you call me vague." Hamilton sat up from under Jefferson, facing him as he leaned against the wall behind the bed. "You expect anybody to believe that?"

Thomas blinked, his pupil shape changing from that of a circle to a diamond, the color shifting from dark brown to a yellowish green. "Yeah, bitch. What else could I do?" He raised an eyebrow as he slicked out his forked tongue, its tip hanging. "I'm an anguine, technically. Most people just call me weird as hell." He smiled slightly, shifting his eyes back to their original state and sliding his tongue back inside its entrance.

"Anguine?"

"Like... Okay, so I'm half-snake, half...other mammal, half-human... Ugh, I don't even know what I am. My appearance changes every so often. I really forgot how to keep up... But the snake thing has always been there. I've always had the tongue and the eyes. That lady was an anguine, too, but I think she got her curse from worshiping some demon god or something."

Hamilton stared into Jefferson's eyes, still skeptical as he rolled his own eyes. "Everything you just said goes against--"

"I agree, but here I am." Alexander sighed slightly, throwing his legs over the side of the bed as he glanced at Jefferson.

"And there's no way to fix this?'"

"Not that I know of. That woman tried to cure herself, but she ended up just scarring me."

"Maybe you could try injecting your soul--"

"Tried it. That's why I started my business in the first place. I was even thinking of replacing Laurens' soul with mine, to always be inside his skin... But I couldn't do that to him."

Alexander then remembered Laurens and how he was still stuck in the warehouse. Jefferson had kept him here throughout the entire time, and all Alex had done was--Nothing! He hadn't even mentioned Laurens throughout this entire discourse. He stood up and stumbled out of the bedroom, Thomas calling out to him as he turned to the kitchen counter and gripped his weapon once more.

Jefferson followed after him, and upon noticing the knife in the other man's hand, he realized he had left the taser on the kitchen counter as well. He stood watching, his heart running chilled deep behind his ribs.

He bolted for the door.

Alex had expected this, taking a step in front of the doorway. He may have been smaller than the other in stature, but when he was armed--

Slash. A claw mark across Alex's neck, the whites of his eyes dulling.

"I never let my guard down," Thomas admitted, looming over Alexander as he dropped to his very knees. "I... I needed to protect myself."

"D-don't you fucking... God..." He clutched at his throat, his breathing seized as he struggled to allow air in. "I won't even pause if you hurt Laurens. I'll end your anguine ass in cold blood!"

"I wouldn't. I don't kill." His voice was calm as he pulled out his phone, pressing the emergency dial.

He peered upward, his face arched in a puzzled expression. "What--"

"I'm calling some medical services. Alex, I may be incredibly disappointed in you, but that doesn't mean I must let you die. I've felt remorse for the first time towards the love of my life. Well, maybe both my loves."

"You can't say... You're not in love with me, you... you goddamn freak." His voice went horse as he fell to the floor.

Jefferson settled down on a knee as he fixed himself facing downward at Alex. "It took me one second to fall in love with Laurens. I can become attached to you as well, Hamilton. I guess you could say that's why I let Laurens obtain his mind. I began... feeling something toward you."

"Is that why... is that why we did all this?"

"Ha, not at all, Ham. I only did this so you would stop talking. Look what happens if you remember Laurens." He rose back up to his feet. "You try to hurt others."

"I tried to stab you, fucker. There's a difference."  
  
  
Laurens had felt a sort of change in his heart once he awakened in a hospital cot, IVs stabbed into the insides of his elbows and his tired eyes positioned upward at the pale ceiling. He attempted to sit up, every joint ablaze, yet the ability was there. He could flick his tongue back in forth in his mouth, speak quietly, twist his fingers and roll back his shoulders. His motor abilities had returned, even if they were lessened due to weakness.

The first thing he had done when he woke up was search for his phone, which was placed on the counter next to his bed. Using his lack of strength, he daintily typed a short text to his love and stared at the date on the calendar.

December 10th.

Pap - hey love

He leaned back in his bed, his heart drifting off as he felt true relief after the months of hell he had gone through. There was still a deep pain in his chest, yet the smile across his face made him feel euphoric.

Alexander had to respond quickly. He was probably waiting for him at home, perhaps standing right outside his door. He was practically yearning for a response.

He forgot exactly when he fell asleep, but when he awakened, it was the harsh silence of night. There had not been any notifications on his phone, not even a ring or a telemarketer's whisper, up until around five in the morning, the sun still hanging cold over the piercing horizon.

Bebita - You need to call me.  
Pap - why dont you just visit me  
Bebita - I'm in hospice.  
Pap - i need to see you

Alex stared down at the phone, gently tapping the bandage across his neck. He smirked, stepping into the bar as the snowy breeze closed the door behind him. Lafayette sat at the counter, the bar deserted as Alex took a seat in front of him. He had John Laurens' old Christmas sweater wrapped around his frail torso, a warm smile on his face as he stared upward at the other man, sipping his holiday brew playfully.

"You are not supposed to bring other drinks in here, but I will make an exception for you."

"Thanks, Laf." The other went off to clean up a row of glasses as Alex drifted off, gently sipping the foam at the top of his warm beverage. "Where are you celebrating Christmas?"

"I will be traveling back home for the holidays. You should really come. "

"I'll see, Laf." He stared back down at his phone.

Bebita - Fuck me if I'm wrong, but dinosaurs still roam NYC.  
Pap - yOU DID NOT JUST  
Bebita - wElL i DiD


	18. The Interlude (Part 1)

Hamilton usually never had very detailed dreams. He would usually forget most of them halfway through the day, yet this one really stuck out to him. The second he opened his eyes upon waking up, hit heart was sent aflutter and he felt enough butterflies to cause his face to form a satisfied smile.

He sat up, realizing a weight was on his chest. Adjusting himself, he looked up slightly to see Jefferson awake, laying perpendicular across his torso. He stared down at the shorter one, cracking a grin as he slicked his familiar tongue out and let it stick gently to his Adam's apple. "You're meeting...someone...today for the first time since the operation, right? If you're not busy, I'd like to show you something." He slunk his legs back next to him and over of Alexander's skin. "Also, your boss called. Something about being fired for being absent for, like, a week straight and not calling in."

Hamilton groaned, brushing his eyes with his knuckles as he sat up against the wall. "You're not serious."

"I am. You're not busy?" He sat up off the bed, shirtless with sweatpants.

Alex rolled his eyes as he attempted to wake up. "Sure."

"I wanted you to see this cool thing I could do." He opened his mouth slightly and fangs shot out of the corners of his mouth. "Alright, so, you see this, right?"

"Yes..." he sighed, his patience wearing thin.

His top fangs extended out to a tad lower than his bottom lip. "I usually don't get to talk to people about this. I'm just excited"

"Don't you have business work?"

"Already called my partner. He can cover me today."

"Why are you still hanging out with me if you were just stalling for Laurens to get better?" Jefferson had not known that Hamilton was aware of this and shot his fangs back into his gums. "I thought you would really change by now."

"You said you had an attraction to me... You could say, I wanted to satisfy that. Is that really a dick thing to do?" Jefferson laid down across Hamilton, smirking as he stretched out on top of him. "We've gone such a short while," Hamilton could tell his voice was growing more seductive in his own forced way, "So maybe we should go for longer than five minutes."

Alex knew what he was being lead to do and, if he had to be perfectly honest, he had very little to do before Laurens arrived home. He sat up using his forearms and stared down into Jefferson's eyes. "Is this going to be another roleplay?"

Thomas smiled deeply before standing up. "Sure, but... Why don't we go back to my place? No offense, but you only have shitty duct tape and old sweaters."

"So, what do you have exactly?"

"I'm one-hundred-seventy years old. I've collected a lot of stuff over the years."

"'Stuff'?" Alex sat up, pushing himself off as he stood in front of Jefferson, now staring up at him through their five inch height difference. "I'm not a virgin."

The other man raised an eyebrow. "Really? Oh, yeah. I was your first time."

"Fuck off," he muttered, a grin slightly appearing on his face. "You know that's bullshit... But--"

"I'm not off by much." He turned around, pulling his velvet overcoat around his arms from where they laid (on the corner of the bed). He scruffed up Hamilton's hair, remarking, "You should probably get some clothes on."

He stared down at himself, noticing the T-shirt but the lack of clothing around his lower regions. He blushed quickly before staring back up at Thomas, angrily, "I swear--"

"No, no. I didn't. I wouldn't do that in your sleep," he laughed, turning away as he strutted through the doorway out to the living room, as if what he was just accused of wasn't even that important. "Come on, Ham. We leave in five."

His eyes went wide as he turned away toward his dresser, pulling out a Cranberries shirt and pulling it over his head. He then slunk himself into a pair of bleached jeans, stepped into a pair of snow boots, and walked off through the doorway. "Can you just grab my winter coat? I think I left it over near the couch, or it fell off onto the floor." He pulled it length of hair back into a ponytail, wrapping a hair-tie around it that he had lazily slung around his wrist.

Jefferson snagged it, holding each end of the coat and pulling it over each of Hamilton's arms. "There. Are we good?" He then noticed Hamilton's hair scrunched up. "You never put your hair up."

"I needed a change," he stated, walking through the door that Jefferson had opened for him. "Is that bad?"

"No, no." He took a step down the stairs, extending his arm upward toward Alex. Alexander took it gracefully, staring down at the grip at they formed. They began to walk down the staircase, their hands interlocked from under Hamilton's fluffy overcoat and Thomas' velvet, their hearts connecting just as their fingers interlaced.

Once they reached the bottom of the steps, Thomas pushed open the door and allowed Hamilton to exit out into the white abyss.

 

Oh, God, how did it get this far?! He always asked that question to himself. He always wondered, "Should I step back? Should this be happening?" but then he continued, smothering himself even more in the pleasure the other provided. Ugh, what had he done to himself? What was he doing, and who could he tell? He had to explain it to myself just to recap everything he had done.

He remembered entering the office of Thomas Jefferson, the door locking behind them for safety precautions. Jefferson turned to him with a thin smile on his face as he asked for the third, forth, seventh... ninth time, "Is this okay? Are you ready?" He was fine with all of this. He wanted this, he wanted to be dominated so deeply that he wouldn't be able to move the next morning without feeling burning flames all up his spine.

"Yeah. I'm ready." Jefferson asked him to take a seat on his velvet couch as he sat behind his desk, rustling through the cabinets and drawers. He had pulled out a set of keys and slammed it upward into a slit underneath his desk. He twisted it, spinning in his chair as he did it, a corridor spreading out behind him that was the width of around six feet. He stood up, ushering Hamilton to follow him. He stood up off the couch and hesitantly stepped out into the hallway, Jefferson following close behind them as they walked. He then leaned forward across to Hamilton shoulder and murmured.

"We're almost there."

They had walked a dozen or so meters before Jefferson placed another key in an indent in the wallpapered wall. He twisted it before turning back to Hamilton, pausing a few seconds before unveiling the room at the end of the tunnel.

Hamilton had stepped through, noticing it was rather plain, yet regal. The center had a white, lace bed with an intricate comforter while the walls had compartments and drawers from halfway up the walls to the floor. Jefferson stood up behind him, leaning over his shoulder as he slunk his tongue out and around over the lower part of his neck. It sent a chill down his neck as Jefferson lead him over to the center of the room, Hamilton breathing deeply as he sat at the edge.

"I came prepared." He slipped a black, reflective blindfold out from his overcoat, strapping it around Hamilton's eyes as he lay in complete darkness. Thomas, as his love lay patiently, awaiting what he was promised. He then rummaged behind him in one of the many drawers, grabbing his prep materials.


	19. The Interlude (Part 2) [EDITED]

"Consent?"

Alexander nodded, his head on the pillow, his eyesight completely washed clean due to the blindfold wrapped around his line of vision. The other man had been preparing something in the darkness, and as he listened closely, Alex thought back to the thought of Laurens, his novels, that concert he went to a few months ago. He was going to write a book on something... something in particular. He didn't know what yet, but he had the basic premise down in a folder somewhere. All he prized, all he had ever loved...especially Laurens...staring him down as he lay out in the grasps of God knows what, with a half-demon, half-snake man looming overhead.

It was enough to make him orgasm right there. Wouldn't that be a sight?

Thomas returned, fixing a cuff around either wrist and wrapping a dull, silk rope around a loop on either side. He then strapped and tied it to knobs on either side of the bed, tucking and typing the edges around until it was secure. Alexander could only bear to lay his arms out to either side of him, palms facing upward. He then added a cuff underneath either kneecap and over both ankles, allowing the legs to split in a diamond shape with Alex's crotch as the bottom point and his heels as the top. He did this by strapping them down, allowing a bit of room to move, and then securing his feet almost indefinitely. The final major change that he added seemed to be a jingling bucket he placed on the floor next to his bed.

Alex could hear the doorway fixing shut. He relaxed every muscle in his body, his position relatively comfortable, yet unfamiliar. The room smelled of vanilla and a slight sent of pine along with the obvious feeling of air purifier. He was given the ability to talk, but he felt as though he didn't really have to. Yet... Alexander Hamilton, not talking? That was not going to last longer than a minute or so.

"What are you doing?" He finally asked, breaking the silence. "You're taking your fucking time."

"'Sure am," Jefferson admitted, walking off to the side of the room and dulling the lights down to a relaxing pink. "I felt so bad for basically earning you this unemployment, and you really won me over, if I must say. Not as much as Laurens on the personality side, but on another quality... Well, damn it all. I apologize for leaving you in the dark."

"Nice pun. Now, what is happening?"

He could hear Jefferson turn on his heel. "They should be here any moment."

"They? Yeah, uh, can we talk about this?!"

"Calm your balls. You wouldn't think I wouldn't tell you this late, right? But I wanted it to be a surprise. Laurens is still overcoming his hospital visit, yet he can still attend the show." Alex could hear the doors a few meters in front of the bed opening. The hallway was slowly opening as well. "I set up a little seat for him. The finest materials that a man like me could own, and it's just a few feet away from where you are currently resting." He took a breath, turning on his heel again. "He can watch as we begin my little plan."

"Hey, snake-eyes, I still don't know the plan."

"I'm not talking about you, Ham. I'm talking about the other person I invited. So conceited, even when you're in my room, on my bed, with my... stuff."

"Who is it? It's not consensual unless I know who will be here. I swear to God, Jefferson." Thomas turned toward him, smirking as he pulled open another drawer.

"I could just grab a muzzle. You have to be patient."

"Who? It's not that hard, Thomas!"

"Unlike you." He was on the edge of the bed, smiling oddly as he leaned against one of the pillars. "I haven't even laid a finger on you and you're already about to come right into my hand."

He wasn't about to admit that this scrutiny was leading to the pulsing deep in his crotch. "Could you maybe screw off?"

Jefferson stood up off the bed, cackling slightly as he dipped his grip into the bucket next to the bed. The jingling sound emanated out into Hamilton's ear. This left an anxious Alexander and a cocky Thomas, who had a long sliver of ice in his hand. "I will not be hearing your rather aggressive remarks for the entire night." Alex could, at the very beginning, feel the warmth of Thomas' skin hovering just before his before he felt the chilliness of something... something he could not quite put his hand on--right before it was gently pushed with Jefferson's index finger right into his entrance.

He groaned slightly, clenching his teeth as he stiffened. "Oh God--"

"We won't be having anymore of those comments."

"You--!"

"We won't, right?" He pushed it slightly further. Alex riled under the frost, the feeling climbing his neck.

"Yes! Yes. Can you please--" Jefferson tapped the rest inside, the tip of the ice almost completely melted under the heat they shared. "Ugh, please don't do that again."

Jefferson grinned, leaning forward as he locked their mouths together, Alexander's soft lips interlaced against his own. He bent back slightly, remarking, "I'll only do it if you need to learn...I would never do it to hurt you."

"When is Laurens and the other one--Who is the other one?"

"I guess you should know by now. His ID is 5256." He sat back to the edge of the bed.

"I don't call people by digits, Thomas."

"Marquis."

Alexander's heart stopped, his eyes closing underneath his blindfold and bracing. "You were the reason Lafayette and I had that one fight... We met again, but, I don't really know if it's the same anymore."

"He told me everything, so I invited him along."

The door behind him opened slowly, two figures entering. Jefferson stood up off the bed, adjusting his overcoat before ripping it off. Alex could hear Laurens' light voice on the other side of the room, which while making him incredibly embarrassed, turned him on profusely. He couldn't even experience John Laurens' eyes on his body, on his neck. He would kill to just lift the blindfold, every sense aflame as he experienced a hard-on that he had never felt before.

"Well." He could hear Lafayette's voice as well, dripping with discomfort yet slight arousal. The Frenchman had bit his lips profusely as he began to undress, the door closing behind him. Laurens took a seat next to Hamilton on the chair, lowering his eyes on him.

"Alex? Are you awake?" He whispered subtly, leaning forward to catch Alexander's attention. Alex turned his head, a smile forming on his face.

"Yes, I am."

Laurens snickered, staring back at the distracted Jefferson before lifting up Alex's blindfold just slightly, enough to view one of his eyes. They stared at each other for a few seconds, a smile spreading across their faces before Laurens set him back up, propping him up against the pillow and leaning back into his rather comfortable chair. "Are you ready?"

"I don't know," he admitted, rustling slightly in his ropes. "I'm glad you're here, though."

"Same to you." He bent forward, resting his lips onto Hamilton's sharing a smooth, light kiss, their hearts beating at similar rates. "I'm so glad--"

"We can cry at home," Alex quipped, smirking as he turned and stared up at the ceiling. "He shoved ice up my ass."

Laurens pecked him on the cheek. "That's a new one."

"That doesn't mean it was comfortable."

"I'm sure it wasn't, love." Laurens fixed himself onto the seat once again, smirking. Lafayette shuffled over toward the pair, patting Laurens on his shoulder before arranging himself over Hamilton's torso, his legs on either side of Hamilton. He then shivered backward, positioning himself over Hamilton's thighs. "I'm allowed to join in whenever I want, Marquis."

"You should probably be asking me," Jefferson replied, standing before him with his overcoat wrapped around his bare skin. The other man felt almost insignificant compared to the other two (besides Hamilton) in the room and awkwardly took a seat.

Jefferson pulled a lighter out of the pocket in his overcoat and lit a candle on either side of the bed. He then threw it in one of the drawers off to the side before returning to the bed, positioning himself over Hamilton, sitting up on his knees with his pride looming downward over Alex's face. He turned his face to the left, staring at Laurens' interested face before smirking one last time and turning his eyes to slits. Thomas then clapped his palms and the lights dimmed until only the candles illuminated their faces.

The first thing that Hamilton had felt was a very warm substance being poured out onto his abdomen and ribs in a rather intricate pattern. Lafayette was the hand behind the substance, following each drip with the tip of his finger. He then dripped the cold ice water from the bucket near the warm substance, its cold properties mixing with the warmth and offering a burning sensation. Near his face, Jefferson was biting his neck underneath the jawline, occasionally soothing his impatient hold with a few light kisses on the lips. He bit the other man's lower lip, mixing their salivas.

Lafayette poured a measurement of the warm substance and prepped Alexander's entrance. He then prodded a single middle finger upward and into his lukewarm orifice, swirling slightly as Hamilton's moaned into Jefferson's warm embrace. He continued with two more fingers, totally three, sending Hamilton into a passionate roar from his throat, leading to a small murmur leaving his lips.

He then removed the fingers and gently poked the tip of his cock into the edge of Alexander's opening, gripping either side of Alex's hipbones before pushing his crotch forward, sliding it halfway through before Alex's back riled against the ropes. Jefferson, almost on cue, raised his torso upward before slinking his member into Alex's open, moaning mouth. The very moment that Jefferson's tip prodded against the other man's tongue, he wrapped his lips around it, lifting his head to rest it firmly in his mouth. He then thrusted upward against Lafayette.

Laurens watched on, his jeans unbuckled and his hand readily throttling his own base. He stared upward at the ceiling as he was uncomfortable stiffened, the scene taking place in front of him forcing him to prevent words from escaping his mouth. He yearned to feel the warmth of someone as deep as what these three were experiencing, and, without warning, he stood up and tilted himself over Alex's body--in between Lafayette and Jefferson--in order to engulf his member.

The entirety could be held in his mouth with relative ease, yet once Jefferson turned his head and saw Laurens pleasuring himself, he sneered and pressed Laurens' neck downward. "Come on. Put your back into it." He turned back to Alex. "What do you--" Whatever the three of them had done had sent Alex's heart aflutter, his tongue resting on the corner of his mouth and sweat dripping down every pore of his face. He was in pure euphoria, a tempting moan escaping his mouth.

Alex was dripping from head to toe, his eyes rolling back underneath the blindfold, yet his eyebrows crushed together in utter satisfaction and extreme stimulation. Every move he attempted to make sent a spark of pleasure down his neck, his entire body pounding yet aflare with absolutely excitement. He bit his lip deeply, struggling to keep back a moan. He finally snapped his lower jaw out from under the grip of his molars and emitted a stormy groan. "Ah, d-do you mind if I..." His words were falling apart as Jefferson handed him a confused stare. "If I roleplay?"

"Hmm? Y-You don't want to be Daddy's little slut?"

That word struck a chord in the back of his neck. It oddly made him feel an orgasmic feeling deep in his abdomen. Which exactly made him feel this way? The domination or the submission? "C-Can I pretend... Can I pretend you're Laurens?" He rolled his eyes back, sweat leaking down his neck as the awkwardness filled the space between him. What was he becoming? In this era of his life where he was stubborn and loud, how could he become so submissive?

Thomas snickered as he smashed Hamilton's head backward with his grip, pushing his hair back onto the pillow. He raised a claw, smirking as he gently penetrated a square inch of skin with the nail's point. "Sure, but you'll have to deal with the consequences."

Laurens leaned against Lafayette's chest as he continued to thrust in and out, occasionally slowing down to tease or press in ice. He extended a palm out to grab the warm substance that Lafayette had been using hastily, pouring a small amount onto his fingers as he massaged Alexander's base with the liquid, the aroma a mix of lavender and pine.

"Huh. I guess the thought of you is enough to run him dry," Laurens chuckled, dragging Jefferson's shoulder back slightly to grab his undivided attention. Thomas spun his head to the side, ready to speak.

He made eye contact with Laurens, which sent a shiver down his spine. "How about we have a little contest? Or, maybe we could just try to finish what we started? Whoever's name Alex moans first. Pride not prize." He slicked his tongue outward, the tip hanging around his Adam's apple. "How about it?"

Alex breathed softly, "I'm not a... a goddamn prize--to be won."

"Pride, not prize. I thought I specified. My mistake." Thomas turned back to leaning over Alexander. "You agree?"

Out of sheer curiosity, and the deep, lustful joy growing deep in his core, Alex nodded sheepishly. He may have been made the goal and most likely the prize, but if he got something enjoyable from it, who was to blame him?

"Aye, Laf, can you just...?" Laurens inquired, gesturing to the side of the bed. Marquis nodded, smirking as he unhinged himself and sat down on the chair that Laurens had been sitting on previously. "I'd like to bestow upon the three of you, my hidden talent. Afterward, I request applause and a fine glass of wine. Any questions?" He rested his grip on either side of Hamilton's sides, peering up snarkily at Jefferson. "Oh, and, I'm probably just going to loosen everything up for you. I know how fragile your ego is."

"Hey, doe-eye, how about you calm your boyfriend down?" Jefferson questioned Alex, pushing his face upward with his claw. "We all know who actually gives the boy some satisfaction."

The other man smirked as he positioned himself in front of Alex's entrance. "Just because I don't appeal to Alex's shit doesn't mean I don't know them. He likes being called a slut. It doesn't take you very long to figure out," he added, before interjecting his own thought with, "If there's one competition I can win with complete confidence, well, Alex already knows."

"Hmm?" He asked as he finally acknowledged all of what Laurens had been packing, something he hadn't noticed for quite a while. "Wait, but... if you, you know... then why did Alex say you weren't the best at this?"

"A man may have the best tools, but he still doesn't know how to use 'em. 'Tis a blessing, and a curse." Laurens teased Alex slightly, allowing him to groan underneath both of them. 

Thomas was slightly intimidated, but he forced himself to think little of it. This did not help him very much. "So, you have something the size of this and you don't know how to use it?" He then turned back to Hamilton. "And you never told me?"

"Guys, I don't know if this is a joke, but you're kind of edging me here." He really should not have said that, as the second it left his lips, Jefferson smirked and sat up, sliding off Alex's body and onto the side of the bed. "Wha--What are you doing? You know I can't see anything right now?" Thomas beckoned Laurens to fall off the bed, which John Laurens hesitantly decided for. Alex was now bare and slightly chilly as he lay exposed on the bed, virtually alone. "What is this?"

Thomas stepped up first to plate, unwrapping Alexander's ropes and lifting them up, tying them to the side of the frame. He tightened every rope a few notches, every spare room not completely restricted. "God, look at this whore."

"W-What are you doing?" Alex actually had known full well what he was doing, but playing the part seemed a bit more fun. "That's kind of tight--"

"Just want to make sure you don't squirm." He positioned himself before slamming into Alexander in a surprising yet tasteful manner, leading to Alex pushing back against the bed. "I mean, this really shouldn't be new to you. You've probably been in another person's bed a hundred times." He shoved himself in once again.

Jefferson repeated this, slamming in and out repeatedly. He raised an eyebrow as he added, "You're actually pretty tight for something like, well, you."

"Loosen me up, then!"

"Not for trash like you," he responded, hitting the very back of the golden spot. Just as he did it, liquid spilled out of Alexander's tip, his back arching as he came, the liquid splashing along his base. "Probably should have gotten a shot for each of the STDs crammed up there."

He did not seem to mind the other two men watching him, the utter scrutinization and humiliation allowing him to harden to a point of discomfort. "I-I'm dirty as hell."

"A pay this much for a street whore and this is all I get? What a waste!" He laughed, pressing his eyebrows against one another and narrowing his eyes. Alex knew he was close, close to filling him up with the warm liquid he desired.

"C-Can you c-come in my--" He was interrupted.

"Do you seriously think you deserve it?"

He bit even further in the role, outside his usually stubborn personality. "Please. I'll do whatever for that." He was absolutely lost in his lust at this point, staring downward at Jefferson with pleading eyes. "I'm your little slut, I know, but... but just give me this."

"You think I'm going to give you something out of guilt? Rethink your life choices, Alex."

"G-Give me something. I'll do anything for that."

Thomas turned his head to make eye contact with Laurens. "Tell me, Alex, what do you want exactly?"

"You know what I want!" He was growing more desperate.

"Yes, but maybe you can explain for the people back home?"

"I-I... I want you to fill me up."

"You'll have to use my name."

"Thomas, just can you please--What do you want me to call you? Daddy? Just please do this for me."

"You don't deserve me."

Alexander came once more, his mix of warmth and white liquid pouring out onto the sheets. "Please, before I... before I run dry."

"Moan my name."

He did as he was told, leading Thomas to finally fulfill his wish, for that was the straw that broke the camel's back. He threw his head back, his shaft pouring out come into Alexander's coffin, the warmth patching and filling every crevice. Alex finally relapsed once more, the white substance pouring out and toppling over every square inch of skin around his crotch.

Jefferson leaned down and whispered, "Would you like me to lift the blindfold?"

Hamilton shook his head up and down quickly. "Fuck yes," he managed to stammer as Jefferson inched the fabric upward, gazing into his glossy, brown eyes. "Is... Is Laurens...?" He attempted to clock his head to the side, barely making out Laurens face before he backed off and moved closer to Alex's face. "...Hey." His words were frail, yet full of emotion, hidden in the back of his mind.

"Hey," he muttered before locking lips with Hamilton, leaving Jefferson to turn around and spark his senses with the warm substance and a quick grab. Laurens had been given the job of holding Alexander's face as they kissed, his chest pressed against the other.


	20. The Interlude (Part 3)

"Alex?"

He was staring out the window near the counter, sighing deeply as he stared down at taxis rushing past and people climbing through crowds to get to their next stop. He had to rest for a few days before heading out for more interviews, interviews where he swore he wouldn't panic or speak too obnoxiously. He was going to do better for himself... But right now, Alexander had downed a few Aspirins and chewing mints, trying to get that specific taste out of his mouth.

Laurens was seated in front of the TV, sipping a bottle of water as the afternoon buzz passed. He was a tad concerned for his love's sudden lack of expression. "Do you need something or...?"

"No, no. Can you pass me the folder from under my mattress?" He turned slightly, just enough to make eye contact with John Laurens, who had lowered the volume on the television. He nodded, rising to his feet before turning into the bedroom. A folder? Underneath the mattress? He would have known its existence by now, but nonetheless, he entered and gently elevated the cot, noticing a few things besides just a folder.

Papers about anarchy, laws, a few bits of poetry he hadn't hung on the wall... A small packet of something that Laurens had probably stashed here forever ago... And the folder, in the corner of the mattress! He snagged it, holding it in the grip of his hand as he exited the room. "What is this?"

Alex stretch out his hand, a blush smudged across his face as he received it from the other. "It's a manuscript." John Laurens stared down at his lover's hand in awe, noticing the frail figure of what it used to be. He then turned away and returned to his seat at television, peering at Alexander from across the room. Laurens closed his eyes and leaned back into his chair, sighing deeply as he returned to his previous entertainment.

"For?"

"Just writing."

"How many pages so far?" Laurens inquired, oddly interested in his new project. He lowered the television further still to listen.

He shrugged, pulling open one of the kitchen drawers for his typewriter. "Eighty-five," he murmured, lowering it onto the counter in front of him as he began to type. "I want to finish it by the end of the year."

"Alex?"

"Yes?"

"I know something's wrong, _mi carino_. Does anything hurt?"

He leaned back in his chair, glaring at the ceiling. "I don't know, Laurens. My ass is on fire, the corners of my mouth are the same, and I have more hickeys than you have freckles." Alex raised the corner of his sweatshirt to reveal a deep bite-mark on his collarbone. "Oh, and if you think the ice helped, I bet I have frostbite. I've been doing God know's what for Jefferson, and... and I don't know--" He covered his eyes with his sweater scarf. "I really have no idea."

"Alex, are you--" He scuffled over to his lover, who had his head resting on the table. "Alex?"

"I'm sorry."

"Alex, it's okay." He put his arms around Alexander's shoulders, holding him close as the other teared up. "What set this--"

"I'm a slut. I don't know why you let me do this," he murmured between sobs. "You were taken because I was with Laf, and... and what I did yesterday... Why did you allow that? Why would you allow that?"

Laurens went silent before cuddling closer to him. "I'm... I'm so sorry. Did you want to do what happened yesterday?"

"Yeah, yeah, I did, but... I didn't think you would be happy watching me." He covered his mouth with his palm. "I was so into it, then I saw you... and you reminded me of everything I've ever fucking done. I need to get rid--I need to get--" He jerked his body upward, pushing Laurens slightly to the side. He turned around to another cabinet that held the Aspirin and various other medications. As he was pulling open the door, Laurens held his grasp around his shoulders, pulling him back.

"Alex, _te quiero con todo mi corazón_ , please stop."

"Laurens, let go," he snapped, elbowing Lauren's collar as he hooked himself onto the door and pulled out the bottle of Aspirin. He twisted the lid and began to pour the pills into his mouth, before gagging on a few and leaning over the counter, coughing it up. Laurens watched on in absolute horror from the floor. "I can't even swallow a God damn _pill_."

John Laurens got up with a start, grabbing at his t-shirt and shoving him down on top of him, now holding Alex close to him on the floor. Alex had never cried or had an episode like this before. He knew that Alex could get obnoxious or get anxious easily, maybe even panic, but when he had his mind set to something, he would achieve it. He should have gotten over this by now, yet he wasn't. "Alex..."

While attempting to break free, Laurens turned Alexander to make eye contact with him, breathing deeply. "Tell me why," he inhaled, "You lied to me."

"L-Lied?"

"You never went to a job interview."

"What?"

"I know you would just walk around until I came home."

"How did--"

"I always knew," Laurens admitted, holding him between his knees. "Then you finally got one at the grocer, eight miles away from me."

A brief bit of silence filled the room before Alex held him close to his torso. "It took a lot to get to this point, right? And... and I wanted to get somewhere, some place where I didn't need anybody's help. I could do all this my self. I never wanted to be so far from you, but... but you were so happy--"

"Alexander."

He rested his head in the crevice of Laurens' shoulder. "I want to do something amazing, and getting a job at a bookstore or--or spending everyday reading and writing, I feel like I control what comes next. Every single life is the same. I don't want my life to be like that."

"Alex--"

"There's no reason to go on if you're just lying to every--" Laurens placed his fingers over Hamilton's mouth to quiet him. The two lay against the center island, Laurens breathing heavily as Alexander continued to pant and sob.

He whispered subtly into Hamilton's ear, "What happened that made you come apart?"

He sighed and stared upward at his love, his ears burning as he wiped sweltering tears off his cheekbones. "Aw, fuck. I don't know. I'll never feel anything amazing like that again, and it didn't include you, so I don't know if this whole true love thing is even real," he laughed, squinting his eyes as he continued to tear up. "I thought my life was different because I found love early, but... Are you the love of my life? I don't fucking know. I'll never--I don't want to know."

"Just because it feels good doesn't mean it's love."

"But now Jefferson thinks I'm crazy for him. It's God damn lust, nothing else. You have to trust me."

"I trust you." Laurens ran a few fingers through Hamilton's hair, smiling earnestly into his lover's vision. "You don't need to fill a desire to be satisfied."

"That's literally how you become satisfied. You need to fill a desire."

"What is your desire?"

"To be remembered."

"What if nobody remembers you except for me? What if I'm the only one who loves you, Hamilton? Will that be enough, love?"

Alex wiped at his face, his cheeks rosy as he refrained from tearing up. "Yes, it'll be enough." He smirked as they pressed their lips together, his warm saliva coating the other's lips as their warmth collided. "I'm never going to leave you. I'd never do that to the love of my life."


	21. Shift

Aaron entered the warehouse, lines and lines of people at the receiving end of news as they filtered up to old ladies at desks. It was Judgement Day at the enterprises, and every employee had to be researched and diagnosed, every STD, disease, and past experience counted. Aaron was sent in as an overseer, as well as another agent who interlocked arms with him as they both walked in.

He walked up to one of the women at the tables and stared down at the line of dozens of people, waiting to be accounted for. "Margarita, do you know where--"

"Mr. Aaron Burr, sir, if you're asking for Master Jefferson, he is busy at the moment, and if you're bringing a--" She raised an eyebrow at the girl Aaron was with. "Dog into here, you'll have to have to bring a leash."

"Pegs--"

"Don't call me that."

"Peggy, that was a year ago. It's in the past," she murmured, brushing against Aaron as she fluffed up a piece of hair. "Can't you listen to what my love has to say?"

Peggy lowered her eyebrows and sighed as she typed a few words into his notebook. "Fine. I'm all ears," she smirked, leaning back in her chair as she printed out another sheet for the next judgement.

"Jefferson called to speak with me. Maria wanted to come along and help with my business ends." Maria leaned inward as Aaron murmured, "And I believe you know where he may be, Pegs." He adjusted his overcoat as he hung over her. "You do know where he is, right?" She raised an eyebrow as she pressed a speaker button that was seated atop her desk. She laid her index finger downward on top of it.

She whispered into the microphone. "Master Jefferson?"

There was a slight bit of silence before a Peggy realized Jefferson was "busy" in his office. "Pegs, I'm doing someth--Quiet! They can hear you from--Sorry. Yeah, but what do you need right now?"

"Mr. Aaron Burr is here."

"Send him in."

"What are you currently doing?" Peggy questioned, leaning back in her chair as she stared off towards his office. She could practically hear Madison panting from over the speaker. "Nevermind. Can you tell James that he has a meeting scheduled at four?"

She could hear something akin to a shout on the other side. "Uh, yeah. Yeah. Has today's filing been going well?"

"As well as we had hoped, as well as it could have gone."

He had spent only a few days with Hamilton and he was already dragged in by him. His first and only love was supposed to be Laurens... How could he lend himself to be this easily swayed? Jefferson paced around his room, eyes up at the ceiling as Madison checked a few papers on the velvet couch, scribbling a few notes down before marking off another. Thomas lowered his gaze, stepping in front of Madison as he announced pridefully, "I know the perfect way to get Laurens and Alexander."

"Hmm?"

He sat down on the coffee table in front of Madison, placing his palm on his work to prevent him from writing while he was talking. "The only reason I can't see any of them right now is because, well, they're overly clingy to one another, and also because, uh, _they're not here_. Say they had to live in the warehouse. Wouldn't that be an easier way to keep my horses in their stables?" James was not amused, trying to gently push Thomas away from his work. "But how... How do you bring the horse to the water if you cannot bring the water to the horse? Oh, right, you ride the stallion over."

"If you're going to keep using innuendos like that, I can just go back to my office." Madison leaned back on the couch, lowering his glare toward Jefferson.

"Alex needs to want to work here. I mean, he is unemployed... We'll offer him a job here. He can either trade his body parts for money, or, too put it into simpler terms, he can trade the entire thing, to me, for--"

"I'mma stop you right there. I thought the only reason you went over to meet with Hamilton that night of Laurens' operation was to distract him so he doesn't accidentally run into Laurens somewhere. Are you suddenly in love with some drunk immigrant?" Madison questioned, his intuition building up more than his emotions. "It doesn't seem like you to fall in love so easily."

He groaned and laid down across the table, now completely across all of James' work. "I know, I get it, but... There's something burning there, and while Laurens will always have my love, Hamilton will always have my lust."

"Then why don't you invite Laurens to work here?"

Jefferson sighed as if the question were absolutely insulting. "He's absolutely disgusted with me now. I told Lafayette to bring him to the whole, uh, you know, yesterday, and the only closer was that Alexander would be there. He despises every part of me, and for good reason." He had never done anything to hurt Laurens, and he would never dream of engaging in anything unlawful, except from kidnapping him, stabbing his precious skin, and demobilizing him for a month or two.

"And you think Hamilton doesn't feel that way towards you?"

"We spoke for hours, and I had set up everything that night. He probably is enthralled by me, or at least, I hope he is."

"Lafayette was paid that for what? What exactly did he pay to do that with the leader of one of the wealthiest organizations in New York?" Madison seemed more interested, even if he was slightly peeved with Thomas' cycling emotions.

He yawned as if it were something not to nod your head towards. "His ring finger for that and a night in the Sun room with the lovely ladies of our Washington Heights district, with consent, James. You always need that more than anything else. They are kind women, and if they truly do enjoy practically eating Marquis alive--and if he enjoys it as well--everyone wins."

"Truly," Madison murmured sarcastically, biting his lower lip as he waited patiently for Jefferson to excuse himself from the coffee table. "If Lafayette can be swayed with such, you can probably exploit him a bit more."

"Marquis' a friend of mine. It'll take some time." Jefferson sat up, a sudden headache brushing against the edge of his skull. "Ugh, can you just go grab me one of the water bottle from my desk, James? That would be great." He lied down again, staring up at the ceiling as Madison sighed and shuffled over to the desk, pulling open the center drawer before pulling away in shock.

A sudden "Aw, shit" escaped his mouth as he realized Jefferson's taser had somehow electrocuted his index finger. Just as this ordeal unfolded, the speaker illuminated upon his desk, signaling that there was a caller on the other side. Thomas stood up, grasping the receiver as James massaged his shocked hand for a moment.

"Pegs, I'm doing someth--" Madison was groaning as he tried to soothe his injured hand. "Quiet! They can hear you from--Sorry. Yeah, but what do you need right now?"

"Mr. Aaron Burr is here." He could hear her loathing voice echoing the name she despised. Jefferson placed his long fingers around Madison's shocked hand as a calming mechanism.

"Send him in."

"What are you currently doing?" Jefferson looked around, just hanging out with Madison during work, nothing too strange. "Nevermind. Can you tell James that he has a meeting scheduled at four?"

Thomas nodded his head towards Madison, who was now curled up on the floor groaning in pain. "Uh, yeah. Yeah. Has today's filing been going well?"

"As well as we had hoped, as well as it could have gone."

"What did I assign Aaron for, again?"

"You wanted to discuss relations with certain sectors, if you should continue to fund the Sun and Moon program, which harvesting departments are bringing in the most revenue... and such."

"Send him in, I could share a small tad of time for him."

"Sir, you asked for the--" Jefferson silenced the speaker before sitting upon his desk, gently fluffing Madison's hair as he braced the pain deep in his fist.

"Madison, are you alright?" He took James' hand, luring him upward and into his arms, smiling down into his ebony skin and dark eyes. "I don't know what would happen if something happened to you and I wasn't there... Maybe I'll say that to one of the boys. Allure them or something." He turned away from Madison, who was blushing profusely. "Us single guys have to work our magic, right?"

"Sure, Thomas."

"You love me, shut up," he laughed, laying down across the desk and running his fingers through his fluff of hair. "Hey, Jamie, can you check to see if there's something in my eye? I think I need contacts."

"Oh, yeah, sure," Madison inquired, positioning himself over the other and pressing his hand against the back of Jefferson's head. He stared deep into Jefferson's eyes, checking to see if there were any blemishes or scratches. "I mean, it seems alright from what I see. You should probably swing by the--" As he finished speaking, Aaron was allowed into the office through the vault, witnessing Madison standing over Jefferson on his desk and staring deep into his pupils.

Aaron then walked backwards out of the room.


	22. Breakfast

"A misunderstanding, I'm sure," Aaron allowed, taking a seat on the velvet couch as James sipped a tea next to him, narrowing his eyes. "I thought that something had been going on that I was not aware of."

Jefferson was seated in his normal position, breathing deeply as he stared upward at the ceiling in turmoil. "Why are we still going over this?" He murmured, snagging his cane from under his desk. "And you didn't even knock, so if something were to actually take place and you just _waltzed_ in, my poor little heart would have split and I would most likely have a stroke."

"You should have padlocked it."

"Well, Aaron, hindsight is twenty twenty, right?" Thomas leaned backward before adding, "We need Alexander Hamilton to be taken here. If Laurens won't come, no rush. He'll come here by himself eventually, if he knows Alexander is kept here." He then stood up from his desk and pushed himself down on his cane the wooden rod being his only support. "We'll keep him in my room."

"How am I supposed to manage that?" Aaron inquired, his fist on the coffee table. "When am I supposed to even do this?"

"Just rally a few people together and persuade him with this business opportunity. Laurens will eventually come after him, and when he does, we'll have both my loves in one place." He turned on his heel to face the wall. "Deal with him kindly. His love has been through enough torment in his life, and to witness Alex being taken away basically against his will would torture Laurens inside. If you have any trouble, call me in."

Burr stared onward, confused. "Why are we wasting time catching some irrelevant--"

"Aaron, I don't pay you for nothing." He turned on his heel once more and snickered as he stared downward at Burr. "You will gather Alexander, and make sure he is not awake once he arrives here. That's all. If Laurens comes after him, even better. If not, well, Hamilton can stay as long as I would like."

"Can you at least tell me what changed? I specifically you remember hating Alexander." Madison dropped his tea slowly downward onto the table.

He smiled warmly. "Yes, Thomas. I would _also_ like to here this explanation," James added as he watched Jefferson lean back against the wall, deep in thought as he glanced around the room.

"Lust is a funny thing. It's like a wolf donning wool, it's dread filled to the brim with fierce passion and then wrapped up like it's love." He sat down in his swivel chair, his head in his hand as he peered off. "How I could find two men that could equally, or at least somewhat equally, match my emotional quota for romance, I'm not sure. I've married and dated and spent enough of my love to live ten times over, but something about Laurens lights me up inside, yet something in Hamilton delights me, energizes me somehow. I've felt like nothing for years and I have always craved that longing to seize."

"Deep, but all I really got out of that was you only felt love for two dudes and you don't know why. It could have been that short," Madison interjected, lowering his eyes as he smirked oddly.

Jefferson laughed as he leaned back in his chair, plotting in his mind a way to murder Madison in his sleep. "Sure, sure. Anyway, Aaron, do we have a deal?"

"I deserve a pay increase."

"Since you have not donated in two months, you should probably stay quiet," he nodded, pressing the speaker button on his desk. "And if not, something else could be arranged to put your mind to, right?" He stood upward and faced James, pointing to the hidden door behind him. "Prepare the room. I have a few folders of ideas on how to develop it into the perfect, little home for my love. Something tougher, if you get it."

"Huh."

"Good, you got it. I want him to be comfortable, yet restless, and if he requests something to eat or drink, that is your next order, but if he doesn't follow discipline," he pointed his cane across the desk, "Send either Lee in or Reynolds. I'll be there soon."

He sighed loudly before staring towards the ceiling. "Lee is a complete dick, Thomas."

"Sure is. That's the point, love," he snickered, leaping over his desk and sticking a place right in front of the two men. "Run along."

 

"How many pages?" Laurens asked, leaning over the kitchen counter with a cup of coffee in his grip. Hamilton was next to him, sitting on the stool and writing away at his novel. He wiped at his forehead, smiling warmly upward at him.

"One-fifty so far. I'm a fourth of the way there."

"What is this even about?" Laurens questioned, pulling out a stool to sit next to the other man. "And you should probably have breakfast if you've been up all night."

He raised his eyebrows and smirked. "I'm not hungry, and it's the first draft." Hamilton then stared down at his hands tapping furiously on the typewriter, how pale they had gotten over the past few months. "I'm so happy you're here," he sighed, mashing at the keys as he finished yet another page, his heart racing in between his rib cage. "I missed you for so long."

"I'm making you eggs, babe," he stated, kissing him on the forehead before turning away toward the stove. Alexander groaned in response, lowering his eyebrows.

He remarked quietly, "You know I hate eggs."

"How about sausage?" Laurens asked as he turned the heat on, grinning as he walked off toward the fridge. "Sausage or bacon?"

"I mean--"

"I'm joking. We can't afford that, and I know you love meat," he explained calmly, a sense of cockiness in his voice as he pulled a set of a dozen eggs out of the small refrigerator. "One, two, or three eggs? I mean, the more egg whites, the better." He licked his teeth playfully as he cracked a few eggs onto the pan. Turning to face Alexander, he noticed the other man stared at him with the utmost dissatisfaction.

He clocked his head to the side before standing up out of his stool, pressing the lower part of his chest and crotch against the counter. "I mean, we could toast waffles. I'll bring the sugar and you bring the syrup." Laurens raised an eyebrow in response before setting down his spatula and strutting over to where Hamilton was, standing behind him and placing his hands along Alexander's hips. "Eggs, though? Two, and hard scramble them."

"What about over easy," he laughed, descending his palms from his hips to the front of the other man's thighs, "Over medium, over hard?" Alex snickered as he leaned into the table.

"I'll pick the spices. I know a fine grind when I see them." He slinked his hands behind his head and pulled his hair up into a ponytail.

"I could throw in a ham, roast it for a few hours before I slice it down the middle," he suggested as he pressed his fingers against Alexander's lower back, stroking his inner thigh with the other. "You ever had glazed ham?"

"Sure," he smirked, turned his head to share eye contact with Laurens, "But maybe some cereal would be good. I'll pick what I like, you just bring the milk. Or if you're feeling a bit lighter," he stroked his own thighs before interlacing his fingers with the other, "Bagels and cream cheese."

Laurens bit his lip before chuckling, "That one was just terrible."

Hamilton turned around to face Laurens, placing his wrists down on the counter behind him as he leaned on it, his core flexed out against Laurens. "Bagels and bananas? But you know how messy bananas can get."

"Right." The timer by the stove then rung, signaling Laurens to back away and run off, grabbing the spatula before flipping the eggs onto a plate. "Eggs over hard, and we don't have bagels at the moment, but there's one banana left near the fridge if you want it." Hamilton turned, grabbing a glance of the fruit before shuffling over and grasping it, beginning to peel it.

By the time Laurens had spun around with the eggs, Alex was seated at his stool, banana in mouth. He repeatedly moved his eyebrows up in down, smirking slightly. "You knew I was going to do this."

"Do what?"

Alex closed his eyes, cupping around half of the fruit in his mouth, moving from the half-line to the tip once before staring up innocently toward Laurens. He pressed his eyebrows up against one another, swirling his tongue around the tip in a teasing manner before resting his mouth around it once more. One quick grin later, he bit off the entirety, leading Laurens to cover his mouth in discomfort. "That's what you get for making me eggs."

"You salty, salty boy," he whispered in mock fashion before staring down at the items he had prepared.


	23. Alexander is Stolen

With a Flaming Lips CD slammed into an old music player, Laurens and Alexander's first "personal day" was drearily sweeping by, Laurens listening to the music as Alexander continued typing. The buses and passengers outside hustled by, shakes of smoke sputtering out across the window as they hung tired in their apartment, wasting time as the day passed on. It was rather nice to spend some time with Alexander, with him not running about with no real goal in mind.

" _Do you realize_ ," he hummed quietly to himself as the CD spun around on the other side of the room, " _That you have the most beautiful face?_ "

"Sure do," Hamilton mocked, cocking his head back before returning back to the typewriter. "The only way you can appreciate this album is if you're on LSD."

"I don't judge you're music taste, babe," he responded, flipping over on the couch to lean across one of the armrests, smirking as he twisted his hair upward into a bun. "I'm not calling Plumtree shitty."

He groaned in a parody sense. "It's a guilty pleasure!"

"Love, you have too many of those." He then began to count on his fingers, "Raconteurs, New Order... Umm... I think that's it. Don't you also have a weird thing for Nickel--"

"That was a joke from a year ago. You can drop it now," was all he responded with, finishing a page before slumping over. "My main character is an ass, just like me," Alex turned his head toward Laurens, "Does that mean he's a self-insert?"

"Everyone's a dick, Alex, and that's how the world works." Laurens leaned up out of the couch to move over toward the CD player, spinning the dial to turn up the volume a few notches. " _You realize that life goes fast. It's hard to make the good things last. You realize the sun doesn't go down--_ " he murmured to himself as it blasted, Hamilton expressing disinterest and slight annoyance. "Ah, that was my favorite part," he added before placing a hand on the door and leaning into it.

"Are you trying to make me want to spike my coffee with rat poison?"

"You could do something else instead of typing some novel I don't even know about, or not. Your choice."

Alex slid off his bar stool, standing next to it as he gathered his papers. "Do you have any ideas?"

"Do you feel like leaving home?"

"If I have to be honest, can we just stay here?" he asked, a slight whine in his voice before he trailed off to another thought. "I'm not really feeling up to anything that active, if you get what I'm suggesting."

"We don't have to go all the way, and I'm thinking of that being sort of a bad idea with our current situation, but.." his voice trailed off as he spun off, standing behind Hamilton and twittling with his hair playfully. "We can still do _the romance_ ," he smirked as he fit his arm underneath Alex's crotch and back, scooping him up bridal style. Alex only groaned in protest as he sat down on the couch.

He then grumbled rather loudly. "I forgot the fucking remote."

"Want me to grab it?" Alex asked, almost about to stand up. Laurens laid his grip on Alexander's chest, refraining him from standing upward. "What are you doing?"

"We can just hang out today. We don't need to do anything else," he added as Alex placed his knees on either side of Laurens' legs. Their chests were pressed against one anothers, Alex grinning as Laurens pressed the other man's hips gently against his. "Just relax, love."

"Bite me," he retorted before turning away and raising to his feet, shuffling off to fetch the remote. Laurens followed after him, and as Alex leaned over the kitchen counter to grab the remote on the other side, John Laurens pressed against his lower half with his own. "You can't trick me like that," Alex laughed, shifting around as he faced Laurens and wrapped his arms around the other's shoulder.

He pecked Hamilton on his lips, cocking his head to the side before stating, "I definitely can."

The alarm clock on the other side of their bedroom had ticked to around three AM when a loud creak was heard in the kitchen. Alex woke up with a start, the light sleeper that he was, and listened, his heart beating slightly higher than normal as any step was taken. The second he heard a breath, a chill ran down his neck. He stayed absolutely still, removing himself from Laurens' grasp as he stood up on the carpeted floor, his heart pulsing louder as he took another step. He really should have just stayed in the bed, the chilly winter air from probably an open window trailing around his ankles.

He had taken a foot-long, slow pace outside of his bedroom before a cold metal grazed the back of his neck and a shock radiated down his spine. The very first thing that had happened was his shoulder blades pressing towards one another, before he involuntarily toppled to the floor, his jawline smashing into the ground. He held back a groan as another shock was distributed to his neck once again as someone slipped a sweet-smelling cloth over his face, propping it upward. He could now hear multiple footsteps around him, all quiet and relaxing, stabilizing him as he struggled to make a noise. His heart smattering against his ribs, he attempted to clock his head backward, but someone was pressing down on his neck once again as he was shocked.

It had taken a few minutes before he had fallen out into a sickening slumber, hands grabbing at his ankles and shoulders as one of them carried him bridal style out of the apartment, eyes drearily fading as he was taken down the steps of his apartment and out into the frigid environment, all that was wrapped around him being a T-shirt and black spandex boxers. He heard a the back of a vehicle opening as he passed into sleep.

"Lay him in the back, please," Aaron had uttered as he sat in one of the trailer's seats, facing a group of employees laying the man on a gurney before spreading a length of canvas over him. He still didn't know why he was doing this, but maybe if he finally got a moment to speak with his wife before she died, he would feel less broken. He then stood up and turned to the driver of the vehicle as he took a seat in the passenger side.

"Lee."

"Aaron."

"I'm thinking of finally doing it, for my girl," he murmured, dulling the radio as he stared out the window.

"You really don't--"

"I don't think working for this behemoth is going to keep me sane, Lee. I have to end what I started."

Lee went quiet, hands gripped around the steering wheel. "Look at the options, Burr. You sell yourself, Theodosia can support herself through schooling and college and whatever, but she'll be forced into fosters. You don't, you have to work here for the rest of your life, but you can see Theodosia everyday."

"I don't care to live anymore, Lee. She's dead, and I might as well just end myself. Save Theo from dealing with a disaster like myself--"

"Yep, sure. That's exactly how it goes. Your wife dies, so you kill yourself. How about you think about Theodosia for a minute instead of thinking of yourself?"

"How about you just drive and not tell me how to deal with my own life?"

"Ah, so eloquent Aaron Burr. Words can't save you, Aaron, your actions do. I felt something for you those years ago and you held it over my head, and you still do it, and now you're telling me that you're going to end it all for--"

"For Theodosia? Yes!" He shouted in weakness, turning the radio off as the two drove on in silence. "I would do anything for my girl. I would end it all for her."

"I think staying alive would require more strength," Charles Lee retorted as he slowed the trailer to a stop, the employees in the back audibly rushing Hamilton out and into the cold air.

The pair relaxed in silence for a few moments before Aaron pushed open the door on the passenger's side and stepped out, slamming the door behind him as Charles sighed in frustration. His childlike crush on his superior had never seized, even if the other man was straight, and even if he had hated his own thoughts. He leaned back in his seat, staring upward at the stars as he began to softly weep.


	24. Christmas Gifts

Jefferson took one step into his bedroom, Madison behind him with a few toolboxes in tow as they rested their items. James wiped the skin of his forehead, sighing slighting as he dropped off the boxes and stared upward at Jefferson, who was staring off into the now emptied bedroom. He had a smirk on his face as he contemplated before pointing to the center of the room. "When I walk in here, I want to see him first thing. Order a queen canopy in the center. What's his favorite color?"

"I don't know, Thomas, nor should it really matter. Green?"

"Green's not romantic at all. It's the color of a goddamn leaf. But we did red last time," he began to pace around the room before snapping his fingers, "Brick red and black. Not the wildest choice, but something that will set the mood, oh, and perhaps a few more drills in the headboard, a few in the frame. Wouldn't want anyone to be uncomfortable."

"But you want the bed to fold out, correct?" Madison questioned, measuring the rough size of the bed Thomas was rambling about. "And what will be in its place once it is fixed back in its resting place? Do you want me to order an actual design team instead of you and me? I think we could get a lot more work done," he added, sketching a few things down on his clipboard.

Thomas sighed, pulling out one of the drawers, which had been deserted ever since the cleaning (all of his toys and knickknacks were temporarily moved to a downstairs storage unit). "Perhaps that would be better, right? I mean, what do I know about interior design?"

"Exactly!"

"I only went to college, um, how many times? In my lifetime? Quite a few times, over the course of one-hundred-seventy years. Oh, and where did I go in the four-year period of 1985 to 1989 for a major in interior design? Oh, yes. Arizona. Then I returned back to New York City and began in the real estate market before I found the warehouse... Turned it from a warehouse to a ballroom."

"I'm talking about detailed design--"

"Interior design focuses on the details, Mads. I thought you would know this," he remarked brightly, snickering as he pulled his phone out of his overcoat's pocket. "Who would you like to call?"

"I'll handle it. How about we make sure that Hamilton is alive and kicking?"

Jefferson groaned in a sarcastic fashion, smiling as he scrunched up James' hair. "He's absolutely fine! I just received news that he'll be here in a few hours."

" _Hours_!" He grabbed one of the toolboxes and his phone, punched in a few numbers, before running off down the hallway, calling a few contacts on his list. "You know the address, and it needs to be ship--"

Thomas followed after him, preparing to see Alexander once again.

The first time Alexander purchased a CD with Laurens was around a year ago, briefly before Christmas time. The wind was blowing just underneath Alexander's neck, Laurens' arm wrapped around his shoulder as the both stumbled down the sidewalk. They had speaking for an hour or so about what they would do over the holidays. Maybe Hamilton could return to his foster's house, see how it developed. Laurens hadn't seen his parents since he left college, so that option had long since been decided against.

"I'm still nervous about, you know, actually doing _it_ ," he admitted, sheepishly staring down at the coated sidewalk. "I mean, I've never really fell in love before, and I've almost gotten to that point a few times, but... I always shake away really early."

"I'm not going to force you into anything. I'm not like that. I'll tell you, though, when you first kissed me, I thought you were going to fucking burn up."

"How so?"

"Well, you were red, and nervous, and shaking... Shall I go on?" Laurens inquired snickering a bit as they continued on through their walk. Alex nodded, laughing as well, not from amusement but from embarrassment. "You're adorable when you're like that."

Alex raised a cocky eyebrow. "What? Men with scuffle aren't adorable, ever."

"You're 5'7". You're not a real man."

"I mean, if we ever went further than kissing, they you would know full well that I am certainly a man," he retorted, stopping in front of the vintage music outlet, his hands deep into his pockets. "Here we are, then. Skin Tag Cassettes. I could buy you the _Clouds Taste Metallic_ album for Christmas." He took out his wallet, noticing that he had saved around sixty dollars for the holidays.

Laurens nodded, pushing open the glass door to the small shop. A woman smoking a cigar sat on a stool behind the register, her eyes painted in purple eye shadow. The store itself was rather long and narrow, the cheaper and older records sitting in the back next to the outdated cassettes. A few boxes of New Arrivals were in the corner and an absurdly lengthy pet snake was curled up inside a bird cage behind the woman. She leaned forward, eyeing Alex suspiciously before biting her lip. "What are you looking for? Skin Tag's kind of a mess at the moment." Her voice was raspy, yet calming.

Hamilton shook away the slight discomfort and spoke rather confidently. "Flaming Lips, Clouds Taste Metallic, 1995."

"That'll be on the left probably, in the Pop section. Anything else?" Her voice either was incredibly slow or rushed passed. "Half off for the holidays."

"Do you have... Do you have Music Complete? By New Order?" Alex questioned, checking the sixty dollars in his pocket, all in twenty dollar bills. "That would be in Pop as well, right?"

"Smart boy," she commented snarkily as she stroked her snake, eyeing Laurens with suspicion.

He marched off into the back of the store, sorting through rows and rows of CDs. Laurens stood next to him, positioned in front of the 2000s Pop section. After skipping through Britney Spears and Matchbox Twenty albums, he finally settled on a few Flaming Lips CDs. He skipped past _Yoshimi_ and selected the one he had been searching for, blowing off a layer of dust. Hamilton groaned as the New Order album seized to appear

"Where else could it be?"

"Under 'F'?"

"It's not alphabetical."

"That sucks," Laurens murmured, turning around to one of the other racks. Pointing out of the Alt section were a few Killers albums and as he searched, he stumbled upon three New Order albums, in which Music Complete was one of them. He pulled it out, astonished by his good luck, and sneaked it into his back pocket. He turned back around toward Alex. "Good thing I'm here, though," he smiled, laying the album in front of him.

Alexander sighed, gripping it as he leaned against the other man. "Of course you would find it."

"I'm good at finding things," he whispered, snickering slightly.

"That was _bad_ ," he moaned, laughing as he braised against Laurens' side, cocking his head so its edge was situated in the nook of Laurens' neck. "You have to work on your pick-up lines."

"Do you want me to practice now?"

"We're not in your kitchen," Alex noted, backing up as he wrapped his grip around the album, simpering as he checked the price. "Fifteen. How much is yours?"

"Ten... Our first little Christmas together. I'm pretty excited," he mentioned, turning away to check out a few more CD sets.

Hamilton shrugged, following the other. "I'm terrified."

"Huh? Wait, why?"

"Your dad's a fucking Nazi." He noticed that the other had gone quiet and rephrased his sentence. "Not like he's actually a Nazi, but..."

Laurens went silent for a moment, still grazing through the sets of CDs as he mind faded into thought. "My dad's a lot of things. He's weird when it comes to me and other guys. He still thinks it's a phase."

"You're twenty-six."

"I didn't even come out. He found out because he went through my phone. I've never been embarrassed like that, or exposed to my whole family."

"What'd he find on there?" Alex pretended to search for a few more moments.

He laughed beneath his breath before reading the back of a few selections. "I used to date this guy in college. We were dorm mates, and the relationship was pretty good, and we had been dating since Freshman. By Junior... I'm rambling. Sorry. Ugh... He had to visit some of his friends back home and we were messaging each other. We sent some things, and then I had to leave for Easter, I brought my phone, and--I don't really know how he got into my phone, but he did, and he showed my mom... We didn't talk for a while."

"Did you guys have to break up?"

"We tried to make it last, but I was just so sick for a while that I just broke it off." Laurens then turned back to Alex, smiling quaintly. "And then I moved to New York."

"Don't get sentimental on me."

"Come on, live for me," he sniggered as the stacks of CDs fell into his grip. "Let's buy these."

"We've been standing here for five minutes pretending to be searching for more discs, right?"

"Sure have."


	25. Locked Up

He had been staring at Alexander for a few minutes as he sighed every so often, the room surrounding them decorated to every pleasure he had dreamed of. The drawers of toys had been covered with book shelves, from works of Homer to Tolstoy. He had set up a small corner with a comfortable chair and a coffee table, where a tray of tea was warming for someone's enjoyment. All he had to do was right in front of him.

Alex had been knocked cold, laying on his chest and covered with a tarp. A square had been cut through his shirt and the blanket in order to expose the center of his back, numbed with enough anesthesia to kill. Thomas was gripping a branding tool, and while a few feet to his right was a fireplace, he almost didn't know if he wanted to execute this. People were watching, thinking, probably expecting him to brand Hamilton without a second thought. He was just worried what would happen if the other man had awoken. Stepping to the side, he dipped the tool into the fire, waiting for it to glow.

The text was thick, aflame, yet cold in its context. He pulled the tool out in one fell swoop, grasping it close to himself as he turned back to the bed, preparing for the deed.

He wasted no time stabbing the tool down into the other man's back. The sizzling could be heard from his own position, staring down at the tarp, the text bold and deep in Alexander's skin.

_Property of JOT Enterprise_

It had been done within a few seconds, the skin scarring around the burns as the numbing feeling set in, Alex still unconscious. There still needed to be work, another branding to be chosen--a heart, a W, or an X. The heart was used for the employees mainly used as rewards, i.e. all of the lovely women in the Sun room. The W was for standard employees that could not pay the upfront fee to resist branding. The X was for those who disobeyed the enterprise, all that left without cause or those that could not follow the terms set in place.

Alex was more than that to Jefferson, more than any of those symbols. He needed to get creative.

He left for the fireplace again, this time searing both the heart and X tool. Thomas waited until they glowed a bright pink and returned to Alex, pressing the heart above the writing and the X over it. A new symbol. It would probably be the only time to use it, for if he actually had returned feelings with Laurens, he most likely wouldn't brand him. Either way, Laurens would be brought here or he would arrive eventually. Until then, Alexander would suffice.

Now he just had to wait.

He closed his eyes, leaning back in his chair, before snapping forward with his eyes wide and ripping off the tarp. He gripped Alexander's right side, pulling him over so his chest was upward. His eyes were closed and dainty, his face warm and blushing shyly. He pulled the toolbox that Madison had left in the room onto the bed, ripping out a tag and a detector. If Alex had decided to leave the room or escaped, signals would be sent out about his current location. He fastened it to Alexander's ankle tight, allowing the lock to practically fit like a second skin.

He then made his way upward to the man's crotch. Pulling down Alexander's briefs, he tried not to create tension in the situation and attempted to divert his eyes as he strapped in the cock cage, stripping it close to Alex's skin. Thomas then pulled his pants back upward and over the contraption.

Jefferson pulled off Hamilton's top, now in the tattered shape that it was. He snagged the button-up white leisure wear that he had saved, allowing it to rest comfortably around the other man's torso. The final thing to do was pull out his ponytail, which left his hair undone. He stepped back, lifting up the tool box as he wiped away a bead of sweat, the work finished.

He had to fight the tightness in his crotch. The whole situation was causing him to become unmistakably horny, a dull pounding in his groan as he stared down. Thomas knew he couldn't pursue anything unless Alexander was awake. This began the slapping, one from one side of Alexander's face to the other.

His eyes whimsically opened, a dull smile on his face as his vision focused. His emotion quickly changed from content to horror as he noticed Jefferson, the strapping to the bed, and the tight cage. Jefferson hadn't realized how tight he fastened it. A single twitch of Hamilton's dick would send him into an uncomfortable pouring of pre-cum and a disgusting feeling in the back of his throat.

"What the fuck is this?" He questioned, his voice slightly lowered as he shook against the restraints. They had used to be silk, yet now the cuffs were more metal, colder, rougher. He quickly turned to blushing, yet his face went pale as he began to furiously stab forward. "What is..."

"A-Alex, either I do this or..." He pressed a few buttons on his phone. "I'll be here tonight, but I'm calling in some people to take care of this."

"You're going straight to hell. Where. Am. I." He attempted to grasp at the cage, morning wood setting in.

Thomas turned on his heel, trying to contain a slight sense of humiliation and guilt. "They'll make you comfortable up until I come back."

His heart pounded in his ear, chills sweeping down his neck and spine up until he felt the burns. He was restricted, yet he gently touched the smelting scar on his lower back, his eyes widening as he drifted along the charred and ripped skin. "Y-You... What is this? What is all of this?"

Jefferson tried to pretend Alex hadn't spoken, sticking his key into the divot, spinning it and walking through the opening hallway.

Alex at first thought this was a dream. The burns began to tingle, to peel, he rubbed around the areas, feeling the numbed skin. His arms had been tied behind his back, his ankles braced at the edge of the bed. The bonding was light, nothing short of the bare minimum, yet whatever Jefferson had planned would have to be gradual. After all, Hamilton had to enjoy this as well perhaps.

The door closed behind him, leaving Alex alone on the bed. The cushions were soft, every movement he made pleasurable and almost smooth. If he wasn't being strapped to a bed somewhere, he would have enjoyed the experience, yet he felt the sudden need to cry, to scream, to fight back, yet as he struggled, he became more tired and dehydrated. Whoever Thomas had sent in would be here any moment, and even the thought of being left alone with someone who he had not the slightest idea of their identification made him scared straight and wildly aroused. This caused the cock cage to tighten even further, causing him to curse under his breath.

"Hello? Someone's up?" He heard a deep voice, slight twang to the edge of his voice as they walked in. Alex cocked his head back, groaning as he sputtered back.

"Get the f--" Someone else walked in behind him.

He had a slight flamboyancy to him, yet striking severity and an ugly sense of an ego. "Alexander." He turned to the other before murmuring, "Do you really need me to get the muzzle?"

"I'm not looking through Jefferson's shit," he responded, sitting at the edge of the bed and staring down at his phone. His voice was deep and gruff, scruffle uncut.

He nodded, turning to the bookshelves and pulling a few aside, a drawer behind them. He grasped it, tugging it out as he ripped out three different muzzles. The man stared at each with slight interest before stuffing two back inside. This one was similar to a dog's muzzle, fit with space for a snout, yet it fitted a small gag in order to seize speaking. The man then turned back to the bed, raising his eyebrows.

"This will suffice." He latched the back of the muzzle behind Alex's skull, tightening the gag so it simply could be bitten downward on. The metal snout of the muzzle covered the lower half of his face, hanging off of it with slight discomfort. Once his work was finished, he backed up away from the bed.

"That will be all," the other mocked, smirking as the other walked away and out of the room. "Thanks, Lee."

"Yep."

He stared back down at Alex, whose face was struck with disdain. "I was sent here to make you comfortable. I'm the only employee free."

Alex could not respond at the moment.

"Anything you want. I'm getting paid to do this."

Alex sighed beneath the mask, a smile leaking out of the other man's face.

"Jefferson told me a little something... Uh, blink once for yes, twice for no?" Alex's face went pale, his heart sinking as the memory flooded his mind. The other simply laughed in response. "Does that mean something funny or...? I don't know. We should use that system, though." Alexander attempted to shake his head, yet he only could rile as the other wrapped another thing around Hamilton's neck--a collar with a chain on the end. He then ran a thick length of leather through it, tying each end to the sides of the bed's frame.

He stared down at Hamilton's cage, smirking. "You need something?"

Alexander, feeling a sense of humiliation as he blinked, pushed his head back into the pillow, staring at the ceiling.

"Huh. Is it water? You need a drink?"

Alex groaned.

"Want me to take off something?"

"Whad-yuh thing?" He managed to stumble over the muzzle.

"I hope you know I'm not doing any of that for you," he muttered, gently pulling down his briefs, unlocking the cage and allowing him room to breathe. "I get paid to make sure you don't do anything you would regret, or that Jefferson would regret."

"Sure."

"Are you missing anyone?"

He nodded, blinking once. "Yesh."

"Boyfriend at home?"

"Yepsh."

"Was his name John Laurens?" He was glancing off to the side.

Alex breathed deeply. "Yesh."

"I was there when Jefferson stabbed him, you know." Alex cocked his head to the side, confused. "Oh, shit. Hold... Hold on--Aw, fuck me," he laughed, "Jefferson never told you the truth."

Alex's eyes widened as he riled forward against the leather.

"Laurens was outside, Jefferson saw him. Seized the opportunity. He stabbed him right up," he made the motion with his fist, "Brought him back to the warehouse and the rest is history."

Alexander seized breathing, his heart running cold as he attempted to breathe again. "What?"

"I thought I was clear. Laurens never did whatever Jefferson said. It was just, lies," he shrugged as he smirked, noticing Alex's grief, "He kidnapped him because he saw him once and thought, 'Ah, that's a good one'. Makes me sick."


	26. Alexander is Sick

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> CONTENT WARNING FOR ASSAULT, STAY SAFE.

"Who are you?"

"Call me Reynolds," he smiled, gripping at the one of the corners of the bed. "Jefferson is a real bitch, isn't he?" Alex froze, his heart shaking hard against his ribs as he sighed deeply. Reynolds cackled, beginning to pace around the room as he stared downward at his phone. "You know, they planned to overtake him around a year ago, but that fell like a stone. Thirty people, dead." His voice dropped as he took a seat at the bed.

Alexander swallowed as he tried to contain himself, his breaths escaping him at a fast pace. "R-Reynolds--"

"Ugh, that mask is killing me," he imposed, unlatching it as he stared into Hamilton's dark eyes. "Now, tell me what you really want."

"Let me go."

"Ha. Why? I thought everyone always loved being buttfucked by a two-century old demon," he snickered sarcastically, leaning down towards Hamilton, his legs on either side of him. He bit down tenderly on Alexander's collarbone in a tease, yet Alex shook beneath the feeling, a sickening temptation oozing out of Reynolds from every pore.

Although Hamilton was lacking contentment, the other pressed on, biting deep as he pressed his chest against Alexander. "Let me go."

"Why don't you just enjoy it? You're such a little slut." There was a sickening twang to the edge of his voice, something that was akin to acting, something that caused Alex to almost vomit from how fast his voice drifted by. He obviously was rubbed off on from Jefferson, no matter how much Reynolds detested that man, he smelt Thomas on the man's collar. Alexander attempted to shield himself from any more, but Reynolds had matched his move.

"Let me go," he finally muttered, bucking forward, causing the other man to fall to the foot of the bed.

"Why should I?"

"Jefferson doesn't deserve me."

"Jefferson deserves everything and everyone, that snake. He's the scum of the earth and the soil beneath it."

"What is that?" He pointed to the tattoo on the other man's wrist.

Reynolds leaned against the pillar again. "Didn't your mother teach you to not ask such personal questions?" The lust deep and hidden in his voice was slowly escaping out of a route of anger, of true distrust. He crawled upward towards Hamilton, who was still struggling against the leather restraints. "God, you're impossible."

"Why are you following what he says? I thought you hated him."

"You think I have a choice?" He stopped, holding his hand to his chest, clearly offended as he laid a harsh grip on Alexander's lower chest. "I've been here for years. You either give yourself up or get taken down."

"No, you don't! No, you really--Just, if you let me go, I'll... I'll talk to him. I swear to God," Alex's voice was growing shrill, dramatic, fearful. His heart raced as Reynolds forced a palm up the other man's back, feeling the deep inscription, the burns curdling beneath his palm as Alexander bit back a cry of help. He stroked Hamilton's fingers, still tied behind his back.

The smile from his face melted into a solemn grimace. "If JOT's still going, God's still dead," he brandished, wrapping his palms around Hamilton's lower back.

"If you do anything to me... He'll hear. He's watching."

"He likes what he sees." Reynolds was halfway up Alexander's torso, staring down in a tease at his hipbones.

Alex was growing more desperate at this point. He remembered what had happened to Laurens years ago, the pain he experienced during the first few months when almost every touch reminded him of that night. He didn't want his joy towards the world to be taken by someone like this. "...Stop," he paused, panting under his breath due to the distrust and fear clogging his throat, "Please."

"Yeah, Thomas is a cuck, isn't he?" Alexander could feel his breathing near his hips, the air causing him to recoil into the mattress. "But I can serve my purpose. I'm good at that."

He could clearly make out Laurens crying in the bathroom, in his arms, that one night. The night he was stabbed, now he knows, and thrown away. He remembered the puffiness of his eyes, the warmth in his face as he grimaced beneath the tears. Every imperfection decorating his face, from his freckles to his dimples. It hit him hard once he realized he could sense it, deep inside, as Reynolds began to bite deep into his skin.

Alex attempted to fight back in the best way he could, moving his cuffed hands over to the side of him in order to maybe jab Reynolds in his side or catch him off guard. Yet, through his worst interest, he grasped Alex's wrists, unwrapped his hands as he grabbed either hand in each of his own. Alex was now slightly pulled forward by Reynolds, who was holding either of his palms, and there was a sinister, hungry look in his eyes, a stare that caused Alexander to bite back a gasp of complete and utter torment, terror leaking through his tear ducts, the leather around his neck unlocked and hanging.

"What'cha doing down there?" Even the murmur of that phrase caused Hamilton to choke.

The tattoo was sharper now, its black ink leaking out towards his fingers. It spelled out someone's name, yet he couldn't make it out as best as he could.

"Maria?"

Reynolds stopped in his tracks, his grip around Hamilton loosening as he stared into his eyes. His eyes then immediately moved down towards his tattoo before he sighed deeply, letting Hamilton unwind out onto the bed.

"Miss Maria Reynol--"

"Who was she?" He asked, panting.

"Miss Maria Reynolds," he stared on, unimposed with anything Hamilton could muster, "How I loved her."

Noticing weakness, Alex grabbed at Reynolds' neck, his heart racing as he socked him square above his nose. The man was still in his grip, dazed and attempting to defend himself, but the other pressured on, slowly and messily jabbing him in the abdomen and face with his knuckles. He eventually stopped once he was kneeling before a squeamish man at the foot of the bed, the man's tired body on the floor as Hamilton stayed chained to its end from his ankles. He unbuckled the collar, chucking it downward at the floor.

" _Bastard_ ," he whispered under his harsh breath, clutching at his button-up shirt with such unfamiliarity and horror that he almost passed into a sleep then and there. Alex laid back on the bed, attempting to unwrap the cuffs of his legs and readjust his briefs, which were torn halfway down to his knees.

He swore that Reynolds had made some sort of move on his lower regions, yet he couldn't be sure. If he had wasted but a minute, he may have been in the same boat as what Laurens had to suffer through. It sickened him beyond belief that someone had invested themselves into him, infested him with a fragment of their skin as he lay helpless. He almost vomited, yet the warmth in the room and the coldness of the bed offered slight relief as he unbuckled himself from the restraints and made his way to the side of the bed.

His legs were weak, tired, as if he hadn't used them in days. He didn't know how long it had been, how long it would have been if he was trapped... He still was trapped, something he kept in the back of his mind as he dragged his legs across the floor, passed Reynolds' unconscious body.

There weren't any doors to be seen.

The unlockable entrance was closed, leaving only a room, unharmed by the outside world. The room was dark, he noticed, despite the fireplace on the side toasting the place nicely. He struggled to shuffle over, starved over the past week and feeling rather weak from the prior events. Now sitting in front of the warmth, he knew he could either wait until Reynolds woke up and deal with whatever torment was left or attempt to escape.

There had to be another way.

He stared down the body of Reynolds, breathing small breaths as it lay. He couldn't kill him, not if he tried. Perhaps someone would come for him, yet if that were to occur, Alexander may receive a punishment worse than death.

He drew a harsh breath, attempting to feel the burns and scrapes on his back. There weren't any mirrors in the room, causing him to figure out the message to be impossible. He had time to think, feeling the scratches, attempting to make out the words. P... R... He inhaled, the main circling the chest... O... P... E... R... T--Property. The next word was probably... of. His thoughts raced, a sick feeling lingering deep in his throat as he dropped to the floor, gathering breaths.

_Property_? A branding in his back marking him the property of something. He couldn't hold back an episode of coughing up bile, the only thing left from a few days without nutritional content. A bit of blood leaked out of his mouth, the saltiness causing him to arch his back and cough up a few extra ounces of disaster.

He swallowed his saliva, his mouth now coated in a disgusting taste, his heart racing against his ribs.


	27. Musical Fluff

"You ever like a song that you shouldn't?" Laurens had asked him, one year ago in December, the cold coating their windows in an effortless frost. Hamilton had been by the window, highlighting a few notes in one of his new novels while Laurens was cuddled up on the couch, a mug of coffee with french vanilla creamer, watching him from across the apartment. The CD player was emanating a dull rhythm of cheap pop music from the early 2000s, a treat in their new household.

Alex leaned back, contemplating the question before sighing. "Yeah, I assume." He regained his position, sketching some more on the side of the paper.

"Like a guilty pleasure."

"I'm listening."

"Alright, so you know when 'Starstrukk' was popular?"

Alex turned his head, completely baffled. " _¿Que rayos dices?_ "

"'Starstrukk', like that song that people made jokes out of? Like, late 2000s MySpace-era shit. Eight years ago... Junior year of high school. Imagine this--Walking down the hallway of an American high school experience and at least five kids shouting the lyrics, and you don't know the song, you don't know the artists. You just sang along in the back of your mind because they sang it so much, but only the band kids, for some reason, were the people who sang it."

"My high school experience was a bit different," Alex added, turning in his chair to face Laurens from across the floor. "I met my fosters and traveled off to public school. I didn't really get any of the stuff they told me."

"What do you mean?"

"Slang-wise. Like, this kid told me to, and I quote, 'get this D', and for some reason, I thought he was referencing, like, a dad? So I just responded, 'No, he's dead'."

Laurens exhaled heavily out of his nostrils, the awkwardness setting in. "Ah, well... Want to talk about what happened?" He asked, a frail smile on his face as he laid himself down across the couch, sipping his coffee attentively. "Tell me about what lead up to here."

"My dad left when I was ten. He was known for disappearing at random times, but we thought this situation would be different or something." Alex smiled coyly, developing a sense of reminiscing. "I don't know why I was so sure. When he finally did leave, it was awful for my mom. She didn't know how to respond to it. Then we got sick, and then the storm, and you know all about this. Why are you asking me again?"

"Is there a problem with that?"

"No, it's just kind of strange." He went back to highlighting.

Laurens went silent before leaning over the armrest towards Alexander. His hair was slung over the side of his shoulder, allowing him to run his fingers through it earnestly. "We should go out for Christmas. I'm not staying here all day," he stretched his shoulder blades before collapsing onto the side of the couch, sighing obnoxiously. "And neither are you, babe."

"Any ideas?"

"Anything except for bubble tea."

"Sure... but, uh, how about we go to a bar or something?"

"Yeah, but you're paying," he smirked dryly, tossing his head back to make eye contact with Laurens. "Unless you mean your bar, in which case, you're so incredibly creative to allow me to come along to your work for the night." He stood up from his seat, letting his hand fall gently to the edge of it as Laurens tied his hair upward, standing up from the leather sofa.

He grinned, his crooked teeth glistening. "Cold as hell out there."

Alex shuffled over, his palms deep into the pockets of his sweatshirt. He was only five inches shorter than the other man, yet the height difference caused him to stare upward only slightly. "What's that Christmas song... with the," he snapped his fingers a few times, "The snow."

"Oh, I don't know," he snickered, "Every Christmas song."

"I'm not used to snow," he murmured before starting up again. "But, it's, umm... 'When we finally kiss tonight'--"

"'Goodnight'!" Laurens fixed, turning to grab his overcoat. " _How I'll hate to go out in the snow_." Alex followed soon after him, humming behind the other stumbling in the apartment. " _But if you'll really hold me tight, all the home, I'll be warm._ "

Alex knew this part, oddly. " _The fire is slowly dying, and,_ _Laurens_ , _we're still goodbying, but as long as you love me so..._ "

"Let it snow."

"Let it snow."

"Let it snow," Laurens assured, pulling the tight overcoat over his body, nudging Hamilton in the side as he turned, "Let's go."

"I never knew you could sing."

"Well, whenever I sing something, you don't like the song," Laurens retorted smugly as he grasped at Hamilton's hand. "I can sing a lot more than Michael Buble covers, you know."

Alexander nodded, deep in thought as he waited for Laurens to unlock the front door out of the apartment, allowing Hamilton to walk through. "Just because I think Flaming Lips isn't... the best... doesn't mean I think the same for your singing voice." He smiled as he slipped out into the apartment's hallway, "The lyrics are shit, not you." Laurens' eyebrows drooped.

"Sure," he added dryly, beginning to walk down the stairs.

"Shall I prove it?"

"How exactly? And what are--" They were holding hands as they stepped down the stairs, Alex leaning up closer to him.

He smiled in an odd sort of fashion as he murmured, "A song needs some good vocals to sound good, right? Well, last year, around this time, I heard a song on the radio that I couldn't even fathom."

"Ah. And that's...?"

"I forgot the title, but maybe you could help me," he muttered, tossing open the door out to the snowing city street. A few couples and dog-walkers shuffled by, unaware of a pair of men leaving their apartment. "And I'm not going to hit half of these high notes."

Laurens snickered, holding Hamilton's cold fingers tight beneath his grip, "Shoot."

" _Santa, baby,_ " he began to snigger hysterically, " _Slip a sable under the tree, for me._ " Alex snuggled up closer, placing his hand around the right side of Laurens' hip sturdily, bowing his head and glancing upward at the other in an exaggerated fashion, a submissive yet coy smile on his face, " _I've been an awful good girl._ "

"...O-kay," he stiffened, surprised by the sudden attraction.

" _Santa, baby, and hurry down the chimney tonight,_ " he sung, drifting his fingers to his waist, a sense of comical antics deep in his trails as he playfully pecked Laurens on the cheek, his skin warm beneath his lips. Laurens hummed in reply as he interlaced his own fingers with Alexander's.

He smirked, tipping Alexander's head against his arm. "I was thinking more of a, _The snow is snowing, the wind is blowing, but I will weather the storm. What do I care how much it may storm?_ " He turned, standing now in front of Alex with his hands on either side of his hips, both of them seizing their steps. He wrapped his arms around the other, holding him close as he slid down to his wrists, twirling him one way with a sarcastic smile across his face. " _Got my love to keep me warm._

" _I can't remember a worst December,_ " Laurens hushed, spinning gallantly with a shy laugh echoing through his throat, " _Just you watch those icicles fall... what do I care if those icicles fall?_ " He pressed Alexander against the brick wall parallel to them, a blush across his face, struggling to hide it beneath his sweatshirt. " _I've got my love to keep me warm,_ " he sung, pressing his lips tenderly against Alexander's as he swayed his hips forward slightly. Teeth were pressed gently against each other, tongues gently refusing to touch as Alex placed his arms on either shoulder of Laurens.

" _Off with my overcoat, off with my glove._ " He tossed off his jacket, the soft fabric hitting the sidewalk. All he had underneath was a white tank top, clinging to hit skin tightly as he messily reached forward for another kiss, his eyes closed as he messed with Alex's hair, feeling each follicle through his fingers.

Alexander had known this line. " _Who needs an overcoat? I'm burning with love._ "

" _My heart's on fire and the fire gets higher,_ " he responded, and even if he didn't feel like expressing anything more than subtlety in affection, he pressed the lower section of his body closer to Hamilton's, gently stroking his back as they kissed. " _My heart's on fire and the fire gets higher, so I will weather the storm. What do I care how much it may storm?_ "

"I've got my love to keep me warm," Alex murmured, a smattering of red speckles across his face, his eyes hazily askew as he stared deep into Laurens' eyes.

"I told you I could sing."


	28. Cold

Jefferson had been watching from his office, checking up on Alexander every half hour or so. He had struggled to crawl from one side of the room to the other, still weakened from the sedative. He almost felt awful for allowing Reynolds to lay passed out on the floor, yet it was interested to watch them interact, no matter how terrified Alex may have been. He sipped his tea with a sense of longing deep in his throat, staring down at his computer in awe as Alex eventually collapsed onto the floor.

He pressed the speaker in the corner of his desk. "Madison, send a medical assistant to my bedroom."

"There will be one ready in a few minutes--"

"Alexander is in dire condition, and Reynolds may have died. Perhaps you could run down here and see for yourself?" He smirked as he licked his lips turning his attention back to the cameras. "We wouldn't want my love to die just yet."

"What did you put into your tea?"

"Let's just say I'm feeling quite angry towards Alexander today. I let him sleep in my bed and keep me out of my bedroom and he goes out and knocks out one of my employees. Mads, I'm going to slap a man."

"Calm down. Should I come down soon?" He could hear Madison packing something up on the other end. "Should I bring someone along?"

Jefferson smiled, kicking his legs up onto his desk. "Aaron Burr is a supervisor, and the man hasn't done anything for this company in a few months. Might as well make him tend to the dog, right?" He then began to contemplate a bit deeper. "And Lafayette, the poor man, hasn't sold any organs yet... You should probably ask him for a kidney. Another day in the Sun room."

"Perhaps he would prefer financial compensation."

"Sure, sure, or maybe he would like to see my love again."

"Alexander? He doesn't seem healthy enough for visitors."

"No, he's on the floor right now."

" _What_?" He heard Madison dashing along on the other end as he grinned in a sinister fashion to himself. "You never mentioned... You've fed him, right? Any drinks?"

"Oh, well, he's already been starving himself for quite a while," Jefferson admitted, swirling in his chair in a slightly concerned tone, yet the positive demeanor still on his brow, "Ever since... that night... I always knew something was wrong. He was, like, one-thirty then, scrawny as hell. Now he's around one-ten." He could hear Madison groan on the other side of the speaker.

A knock was heard at the vault's entrance as Jefferson switched off the speaker. "Come in," his words laced with mischief as James rushed in, nervous.

"You never said anything about that!"

"Didn't think it mattered, to be honest--"

"This kid's going to--" Madison pulled out his satchel from behind the door, slamming it behind him as he trudged along, checking numerous devices buried deep within the bag. The other simply rose to his feet and pushed the chair in lightly. "You're starving your hostages!"

"I have one, and he needs to be here, James," Jefferson retorted, bowing his head and staring upward from across the room. "We have to wait for a Mr. John Laurens."

"Relax! Just... just relax. You need to get back to business and hand, and instead, y-your keeping some guy in your bedroom for _no other reason_ than because you find having him as a companion to be attractive, for some reason?" Madison was ranting now, dropping his bag as he pulled out an emergency key to the hallway. "Cut the middle man if you have to. Let this guy go and take Laurens! And now I--"

" _He's my green finch_ ," he murmured as he sat down in his chair, Madison talking over him.

"Today was tough for the business, and for me. I'm sorry I was so blunt," he suggested, opening the corridor as he stepped through, making his way to the bedroom.

" _My linnet bird, nightingale, black bird_."

"Perhaps you should come with me, Jefferson, and we can discuss later events--"

"My cage has many rooms," he continued, shuffling up from his chair and strutting down the hallway slowly as Madison struggled with the keys. "Damask and dark." He pushed on the door as Madison tried to unlock it from under his arm. He leaned on it coyly, smirking. "Nothing there sings! Not even," he whispered the next line, "My lark."

Madison was puzzled, resisting Thomas as best as he could possibly achieve. "W-What is that? Some song?"

"Larks never will, you know, when they're captive," he rapped on the metal door suggestively, "Teach them to be... more adaptive."

Hamilton awakened from his discomfort-induced slumber, the disgusting taste in his mouth still emanating from his tongue, the shirt he had been given tossed into the fire. Reynolds had not awakened yet, which caused his heart to beat still. Perhaps he had killed him, but how? He simply punched him a few times, nothing major. What could he possibly have done to kill a man so easily?

God, he was starving, since the last time he had a meal was around a few days ago, besides the banana from... when? How long had he been here? He never noticed his ribs until the third hour after he woke up, in which feeling the scars on his back became too much to bear and his hands simply moved to his chest, where he felt the deep inclines. When would Jefferson show up? Would he ever?

He then heard the knocking more profusely, backing away towards the wall next to his bed. His heart pounded subtly, his entire body shook as he grasped at a metal rod used to poke and jab at logs in the fire. It was slightly warm, yet he held it close to his chest and braced himself for an intruder.

The door inched open, the squeaking breaking through his eardrum as he prepared himself. Jefferson laid his foot in between the crack in the door, a concerned smile across his face. "A-Alexander?" Madison asked from behind him, eyeing the taser resting in Thomas' hand. "We've come for medical attention to Mr. James Reynolds and yourself, yet we will not enter without a form of consent--" Jefferson threw open the door, causing Alexander to leap in his own skin.

" _G-Get the fuck away from me._ "

"Drop the poker," he murmured towards him before smiling, "Doesn't this remind you of something? When I came over days ago?"

"Don't touch me, you bastard."

"Drop the poker, Alexander, or maybe Reynolds can make sure of it."

"He's dead!" Alex stabbed the pointed end forward, a gentle shift rendering in the sweltering air, pressing his back into the wall as he squirmed.

Jefferson smiled before gently kicking Reynolds' in the back of his head. Out cold.

"You didn't kill him, dear. Still breathing. Drop it." Alexander turned the poker on himself.

"I'd rather die." Jefferson was immediately reminded of a certain night months ago, yet it was difficult to make out. He took another step closer to Hamilton, yet Alex pointed the spear downward toward his abdomen. "P-Please. Please don't make me do this. Reynolds is scum. Just let me out of this... h-hell--" He was now staring up at Jefferson, who had a dark grin smudged across his face.

He gestured to the spear. "Go on. Off yourself, Alexander. I always wanted Laurens more."

"Please let me go, you... you--"

"After I spend you, we'll let you die, Alex. I'll make sure of it, for you. I know how pesky you can be. Laurens was never like that with me."

"Don't talk about him like that!"

"I bet you think I... I messed him up, or some shit." Madison came up behind Jefferson and placed a hand on his shoulder. He turned to the man behind him and his smile faded. "Right? What does this kid think he's doing? Or am I the villain?" He flashed a frown backward down at Alexander, who remained crumpled on the hardwood. "Tell me."

"You're a beast."

He pointed to the bed in the center of the room. "How did you get untied? Maybe we should tie you back up."

" _Please let me go, Jefferson._ "

"Are you begging for me now?"

Alexander stood up, his weak legs stumbling beneath the heat resting high in the air. He jabbed the spear forward, the edge becoming ingested in Thomas' center. He stared downward at the impaled portion of his skin.


	29. Christmas

"Aye, Alex," his words were shallow and drowsy as he jabbed Alexander in the cheek. "Guess what day it is?"

"Is it Christmas?" He opened his eyes in a weary fashion before cracking his neck. Laurens was next to him, his arms around the other's shoulders and his legs across him, struggling to keep warm ever since the heater in their apartment sort of failed. "I was correct."

"I probably made the naughty list again this year," he laughed, sitting up as he yawned, a smile inching across his face. Alexander sat up as well, ready to get up out of bed, yet Laurens was still cuddling him tightly, his warmth clinging to the other desperately as he giggled quietly to himself. He let him go to adjust himself as he slid himself off of the bed, the only thing around his body were a pair of boxer briefs, which had the words "OPEN 12/25" across the back.

Alexander sighed once he saw it. "You're not serious."

"Sure am," he walked over to his dresser, messing up his hair before pulling it up into a ponytail. "Oh! And guess what day it is."

"December 25th--?"

"December 25th!" He extended his arm out at Alexander, who grasped it before being jerked upward into Laurens' arms. "I've never been one to follow directions, but I think this one may be important."

"Sure."

"Unless you're not up for it."

"Right."

"So?"

"So." Alex was smiling coyly now, biting his lip. "Let's get Christmas started before we open any last minute gifts." He kissed him gently in the crease of his neck, stepping back to leave of the bedroom door. The chilly air was gently rushing by the window on the other side of the room half opened, allowing him to stumble over and slam it shut, that half of the room stuttering. By the time he had finally turned around, Laurens was behind him, his back to the kitchen's island.

"Ah, so we're doing this again, I guess."

"Mmm, yep," Laurens admitted as he pulled out a small wrapped gift from behind his back. "I wrapped up your CD."

Alexander lifted an eyebrow before sighing, "I thought you were going about something different."

"I'm following what you said. I'm a 'last minute' gift."

"Hey, don't say it like that." Alex fussed with the other man's hair, hugging close to him tight. "I have an idea I'd like to try out," he continued, lifting a strand of Laurens' hair with his index finger. "Go to the couch."

He slid out from the island and sailed over, launching himself from a few feet away and hitting the center of the couch in a dive. He clocked his head upward to face Alexander from across the room. "Can we finally watch that Rudolph movie or we going to have to rewatch a Little Mermaid/Lion King 1 1/2 double feature for the next," he stared at the TV's box to find the time, "Twelve hours?"

Alex slid up beside the couch before diving into it as well. "Braid my hair."

"How am I supposed to braid thy hair?"

"With your hands, Laurens." He positioned himself in front of the couch, folding his legs.

He sighed, sitting up and leaning forward to braid the other's hair. "Why the hell--"

"Would you rather me attempt to braid your hair?"

"Yes, bitch. Get on that," he muttered, standing up as Alex did, both of them repositioning themselves. "And we better get some flowers because if my hair doesn't look fancy as fuck I am done."

 

"It appears I have been impaled," Jefferson gasped, the sinister smile reigning on his face as his eyebrows pressed together. "If I have to spend my Christmas in a hospital room, Hamilton..." He turned to Madison, snapping his fingers. This commenced James to hurry over to Hamilton and press the taser deep into his neck. He sputtered under the shock, but gave way pretty quickly due to his current state.

"Thomas! Why would you get so close--"

"I'm bleeding, oh my God," he murmured, now relieving his senses after Alex became unconscious. "I... Ugh, let's go back."

"Shall I inform the medical team to bring a gurney--"

He fell to his knees, the rod protruding in a teasing manner. "It's a good chance that I'm going to die in Alexander's cage, if I hadn't been used to this. Fetch them all. If you're not back in a few minutes, I'm dead, James. That guilt's on you, bud."

He rushed off, his medical kit in hand as he trampled down the hallway. Now with Madison gone and running, Jefferson rose to his feet, breathing deeply as he turned around.

"Clever, to play dead like that, Hamilton."

His eyes opened with a start. "I... I didn't mean to do what I had done."

 

Whatever! It didn't matter. The braid had been done, the TV was blaring, Alexander was on top of Laurens. The chilly air was infesting itself upon both of them, but the aura had grown almost overbearingly hot, enough to cause his center to begin to sweat. They had been roughly kissing for around five minutes, a number of bites across Laurens' chest. He suddenly broke away from a kiss. "Alex, I want to do this."

His heart stood still for a few moments, their kiss breaking, staring deep into the other's dark eyes in a rather mystified fashion.

"W-What?"

"You moved in, it's Christmas... I want to do it."

"You mean..."

"Yep," he sighed, a slight snicker radiating from his throat.

"Oh. Umm... yeah. Let's do it."

"Are you sure?" Laurens raised both his eyebrows, smiling in a concerned way. "You're absolutely sure?"

He leaned in close, simpering. "I've never been so sure."

"Then we'll need a few things." Alex sat up, Laurens standing up from under him. He adjusted the braid of his shoulder as he disappeared into the bedroom. Alexander didn't know whether or not he should enter, but if he had to be honest, he felt such a confusing cocktail of anxiety and excitement that his heart rate was causing him to shake slightly out of pure joy. Once Laurens returned, he gulped.

A tube of lotion in one hand and his briefs in another. He had remembered Laurens telling him of some... attribute... he had, yet he had not prepared himself for what he had gotten himself into just yet.

"Well."

"Yeah."

"If I bought it at Subway, it would be five dollars." He tried to make the situation lighthearted, but something in the back of his mind seemed impressed yet almost fearful. He'd done it with a girl, something he was not proud of nor ever acknowledged, and he had experimented fairly often over the past few years, but nothing could come close to this.

"Sorry!" He sat down next to him, smiling yet oddly anxious.

"This... This is going to hurt like a bitch," he sighed, leaning back into the couch.

Laurens dropped the bottle onto the floor. "If you don't want to do this, I completely understand. You're not the first person."

"N-No. We'll just need this," he patted the bottle, a bead of sweat leaking down his cheek, "And we'll be all set. I promise."

"If you want me to pull out, that's fine. I'm not going to do this if, you know, it gets bad." He began to slather his length in the lotion, Alexander eyeing it suggestively with uncomfortable anticipation deep in his abdomen, his heart braced against his ribs. How was he supposed to take this all in? Whatever he had shoved up there over the past lifetime couldn't even come close to what he was about to engulf, and that fact made him nervous. He had never gone through this type before. Who was to say what could happen?

He laid down on the side of the couch, grasping each side of the couch with a firm grip. Laurens turned to him, teasing him by circling the tip of his member with his index finger, allowing Alex to smile slightly. He then pressed the tip of his cock to Alexander's entrance, the girth causing him to shiver. He bit his lip tenderly.

Laurens appreciated slowing things down, allowing it to enter as disgustingly halted as he possibly could. Perhaps it's what he had to do, as Alexander tightly shut his eyes and exhaled, concentrating on the friction of the sliding object, his fingers resting deep into either side now. His knuckles were white, his teeth grinding together as he tensed up around Laurens' length.

"Shit," he finally breathed, causing Laurens to snicker under his breath. He continued to slide in until around halfway, where Alex began to breathe heavily, yet quietly. He was trying his best, and he had reached rather far.

God, he was just about to snap in half.

"How far do you want me to go?" He was tensed as well, his voice growing in volume, yet still harsh.

Alexander spread his legs in order to ease the tightness and extend the pleasure. Laurens had hit the golden spot head-on, and the squirt of pre-come was sliding down the edge of Alexander's shaft. "T-That's... Keep going." Every word caused him to exhale deeper, his voice shaking under the intensity.

"You're so good to me--"

"I know, I know."

"Alex, how much--can you take?" His voice was rushed, yet Alexander couldn't make eye contact with him. His eyes had drifted closed before he exhaled.

He was questioning this as well. "Just... j-oh my God." He breathed in deeply before sighing, allowing himself to take pleasure in the fact that he had made it this far. You're not the first person. What was that supposed to mean? God. His entire lower region felt consumed with a mixture of ache and undeniable euphoria.

He followed his directions, sliding in slowly up until he was almost completely in. At this point, Alex felt as though he would break under the pressure, the nagging pain from deep inside his entrance causing him to sputter slightly. "Babe, I'm not going in," he breathed out, "Anymore." He sunk out a few inches before slamming back, the golden spot being triggered again, leaving Hamilton with a rush of pleasure.

He continued this cycle, the grasp around his base causing Laurens to feel the edge of that novelty, that orgasmic feeling. A sudden rush of come had been leaking out of Hamilton's tip as he dripped his tongue out of the side of his mouth, blush streaming across his face.

Laurens then pulled out rather quickly, the friction causing Hamilton to finish, his body spent. As he breathed deeply, Laurens leaned in close to him, his erect member pressing into the gap between his spread legs, cuddling Hamilton's front. "You're so... I love you so much," he sighed, allowing himself to come as well. He kissed Alexander's forehead, making eye contact with him as their noses touched.

"Merry Christmas."

"Christmas isn't over," Alex sighed, "C-Can you make me a coffee?"

"Hmm. I guess I could," he murmured, sitting up before sliding off the bed, pulling his boxer briefs up. "Black?"

"It's Christmas. Get me peppermint."

"For you?" He extended his hand, allowing Alex to stand up. Tomorrow, he would be regretting each and every one of his life choices. "Definitely." He handed Hamilton his T-shirt. "A muffin?"

He exhaled once more, his entire body shaking under the cold and the feeling of emptiness leaving his V-line in a state he had not been used to, one that caused him to quiver just imagining it once more. "Chocolate chip."

"You okay?" How smug can he get?

He stumbled over his words, something uncharacteristic for him to do. "H-How can you recover that quickly--"

"Aye, buddy, in case you haven't noticed, neither of us have really recovered," he retorted motioning to his own erect member with a smile. "'Te quiero tanto, mi chiquita.' What a wonderful phrase, I may add."

"Hmm. Sure. You are getting me that coffee, right?" He leaned forward, a mask of deceit coating his face. "If we're going for pet names, I guess I have to call you Papi now?"

"Funny. I was never into those."

Alex raised an eyebrow as Laurens turned away to fish out the peppermint coffee powder. "What do you mean by that?"

"I don't know. Being called 'daddy' or whatever makes me feel off."

"But you can call me shit like 'bebita' and it's cute."

"'Chiquita' is cute." He powered the mix into a #1 Grandma mug as Alex took a seat, the aching feeling slowly residing as he exhaled once more.

He lowered his head onto the counter top in a mock fashion. He had just had his first time with Laurens, on Christmas, and it felt alright, and now they were just going to drink coffee? He did need it, for most of his energy for the day had been drained.

"You never told me it was that size."

"I probably did."

"A foot long. Are you serious?"

He shrugged, "I never thought it would matter."

"I love you, but how could you," he reminisced back to a few moments ago, "How could you..." He didn't know how to word this per se, yet he attempted nonetheless. "How could it all... just... fit?"

"You did well. I can applaud you for that, babe."

"No, no, this isn't something to not talk about. This was our first time. Isn't that important?"

Laurens turned, setting the coffee down in front of Alexander. His forehead was steamed and his face was covered in sweat, yet a grin was plastered across his freckled face. "Don't try to overcomplicate love, Alexander."

"I'm just... stunned," his voice trailed off as the two made eye contact, right before Laurens tussled Alex's hair in a playful manner.

"Yep. I'm pretty lucky to spend my Christmas with you."


	30. A Strange Gift

_I wrote this chapter in the middle of the night surged on Advil so this one's going to be a bit wEIRd._

"Master Jefferson will survive," Madison reported to Hamilton, who was now sitting in the center of the room, on the deserted floor as the bed was taken away hours ago, "And we will hopefully take better care of you, to make sure it doesn't... get this bad," he sighed, beginning to leave the room as Alexander stared on in disgrace. "Is there anything I can get for you?"

"How about a five-liter bottle of rat poison and, uh, a latte?" His voice was scratched, a bit rushed, yet just as snarky. "I'm starving, and if I wasn't chained to a post by my neck, I'd contemplate cannibalizing your ass."

"What do you desire then?" James seemed to ignore that last statement.

He groaned, gulping his saliva. "Boy, was I not clear?"

"Now you're just acting like a mythic bitch," Madison chuckled, a slight tremor of terror in the back of his throat, "If you were any angrier, you'd be foaming at the mouth." An idea! "So, if you're going to act like a dog, I can surely meet your accommodations."

"Put that muzzle on me and I'll show you what it really means to be horse meat."

He snickered, stepping upward before reaching from the dislodged muzzle in the corner of the room. "Maybe it'll relax you, Alexander." He then turned and gathered his tools, "I really have no business here. I'll send in a note for your dinner and leave you alone."

"What if I need to piss, you soggy fuck?"

"Figure it out," he opened the hallway door.

"And if I want to sleep?"

He turned around before slamming the door, "I'll request something."

A year ago was when Jefferson figured out where Laurens had been inhabiting.

He would follow him for blocks, usually wearing his overcoat and boots, accompanied by Madison or Reynolds, a Polaroid in hand when at night. He would stand by corners, beneath trees, anywhere to snap a picture of Laurens in the park or on the street. He had snapped around thirty photographs before he began to move in closer.

He kept the photos in one of the drawers of his desk, underneath a supply of bone fragments or memorabilia that he deemed fit for such a personal space. Thomas would either marvel at them, making out every nook and cranny of the man's physique, or just wish he could be beside the man. This wasn't the correct way to live in his eyes, yet the pure euphoria that rose out of him when he was treading mischievous grounds was enough to cause him to continue.

During one session in the wee hours of the night, a young hooded figure entered his office, requesting to speak. He issued a boon toward Jefferson, requesting a trade for a "cursed object" in exchange for his Polaroid camera and a slot of film. After explaining what the object could do, Thomas reluctantly handed it over and was given the item in return before the hooded figure exited, never to be seen again. He kept this item on top of the splattering of Polaroids, waiting to use it, waiting for someone to practice with. Alexander seemed to fit this criteria well.

The item seemed to be handmade, sewn with more delicate fingers than any ruffian entering in the middle of the night could possess. He could only hope to believe in its true magical qualities as he had been a walking example of one, meaning someone out there could have crafted such a marvel to behold. Just holding it made him feel absolutely terrified of its existence.

The hooded figure, one with a masculine voice and a chiseled physique, had handed over a pair of undergarments that not only could add the opposite sexual organs of the occupant, but also came with a small box. One side of this cube was connected to the center of the panties through a sort of gateway system. If someone were to, say, tap this side of the box, it would come through the center of the piece of clothing. It had a few side effects, as it couldn't change anything else about the user except for around half of its organs in that area (it would not develop a uterus, but anything underneath would change), and the most frightening part was the panties could not be taken off unless the user and the holder of the box kiss, something Thomas found cliche but not worthy to complain about.

He never really saw the need to bless someone with a curse as drastic as this one, yet due to Alexander's attempt to murder Jefferson, it seemed like a good fit.

Laurens had awakened at around seven AM, confused as to why Alexander would leave the house without his phone or a note. It was unlike him to at least give warning, let him going on a stroll around NYC seemed far from surreal. He must have been feeling anxious, probably needed to go somewhere to think. He sat up in his bed, clicking his tongue as he scrolled through his phone, looking for someone to chat with.

Burr was a depressing little treasure, Mulligan was a mystery to him, and Lafayette... where had Lafayette been? After he left the warehouse, he seemingly disappeared. Perhaps he would like to be spoken with.

Laurens - hey hmu  
Lafayette - What does hmu mean  
Laurens - hit me up  
Lafayette - About what  
Laurens - i havent seen u in a while  
Lafayette - I had to take a break from work Laurens - what did u do :p Lafayette - I have work for JOT Laurens - jot? Lafayette - Organ trading Laurens - y tho Lafayette - I need more funds Laurens - same but im not selling my organs Lafayette - You should Lafayette - It makes good money Laurens - uh huh Lafayette - Do you think I am lying Laurens - no i jst think its not a good idea Laurens - *just Laurens - we can meet up later Lafayette - I will see

The surgery had been quick and Thomas knew he had to work fast.

He brought his cane along as he shuffled down the hallway, clutching it as if it were a weapon. He held the box under his overcoat and the garments in his pocket. Hamilton had requested the previous canopy bed to sleep on for the night, and while Jefferson greatly overestimated Hamilton's ability to sleep, he must be awake at this hour. He unlatched the door, sliding it open, only to see Alexander staring at the wall parallel to him.

"Hello, Jefferson."

"Hamilton."

"Are you here to scar me again?" He resisted eye contact as Thomas took a step forward.

He smirked as he pulled out the piece of clothing. "On the contrary. I've brought you a Christmas gift." Alexander finally turned his head to meet Thomas' eyes. "You can wear it right now."

"What?" He spat as he sat up against the headboard.

Thomas gently chucked the garments onto the bed, cocking his head to the side. "I mean, you should feel welcome here."

He picked up either end delicately with his fingers, the light blue and green fabric light beneath his stare. "You're not serious."

"I am. Whether you wear them is not my decision."

"If I wear them, will you let me have a night of rest?" He made eye contact with Jefferson, his smile fading.

"Of course. I just thought you would--"

"I'm your prisoner. You can't make me feel guilty."

He shook his head, ready to leave. "That wasn't my intent, and I hope you can find some peace in your heart to let this night be restful."

"Sure."

Jefferson turned and left, his heels clicking against the floorboards as he slammed the door shut, leaving Alexander with the gift in his hands. He lowered his eyebrows in a confused manner, not having a single clue as to why someone like Jefferson would give him a gift after what had happened hours before. Slipping them on and laying down across the bed, he was lost in thought, wondering an escape route. Perhaps when a servant would enter, Alexander could snag a key from their pocket and leave during the brisk nightfall.

As he lay, he noticed a sudden... switch... existing as he struggled to fall asleep. Some sort of weight left him, a feeling of shriveling change and dizziness overtaking him. The hours had drifted by before he noticed what had happened.

He first thought he had been falling into a sleep-like state, staring down at the change that had taken place. In the place behind his manhood was that of a divot, a sinking fear setting over him. Behind his cock had been switched out for whatever he had just laid eyes on, a trembling feeling of dread sinking in as he contemplated whether or not he was dreaming. The edges of the garments seemed akin to stitching against his skin, removing them seeming to be impossible.

Behind the base of his shaft was a vulva.

He must have been given some sort of drug to cause him to conjure up such hallucinations. He lay back, taking in all that had happened in the last minute and desperately wished to fall asleep. Maybe all of this could be changed in the morning. Maybe it had all been a false apparition.

Soon after, he felt a thin girth entering his entrance.

He didn't know what to make of it, feeling at his V-line as a wave of pleasure overtook him. It felt as though someone was teasing his newly developed... whatever the hell it was... by sinking an index finger or an object of some sort into it, yet no one was surrounding him. He was alone in this room, staring downward at his crotch, every movement causing him to feel a rush of ecstasy.

Whatever was happening felt absolutely incredible, a presence lurking below and causing him such euphoria. His entrance was pounding, flaring with each growing second as another finger entered, the space tightening as it sunk deep into his clit. The tip of the girth flinched, causing Alexander to ride a surge of chimerical glee, laying on his back as he riled against whatever force was causing him to feel this way. He felt the deep inclines of his sides as he murmured a slight moan, a dull smile across his face as he clicked his hipbones forward.

Something had now been steadily separating the lips of his lower regions, the realization of a distant power causing this to finally set in. He seemed to remain unabashed by this idea, the contentment flowing through him too strong at his point. He had almost not realized a thicker width entering his body, something much more than a few small appendages. He placed his palms above his crotch, feeling the object enter his opening, sinking in and out at an almost rhythmic pace.

Alexander felt at the cloth near the bottom of the garments, stroking his new body part as the object sunk in further, the friction causing his clitoris to shred moisture, a light orgasm surging through his being. Whatever Thomas had given him could not be explained through words, by explanation, but through the sudden waves of desire that emanated. The object seized, inching back and out of Alexander's entrance, causing him to feel a cold emptiness that he loathed dearly. Yet as he sunk into his mattress, stroking himself further, a familiar force on the other end stimulated his labia, gently vibrating near his clit.

Something else, something thicker, was being thrusted upward through his labia's lips. He expected that if he were imagining or if he had been given such an organ, it would be as tight as it had been, almost not curling around the length of the member being shoved up through his garments. It brushed passed his G-spot, prodding against the edge as it rubbed brashly against the inner lining of his newly formed vagina, knowing a single tick from the edge of the member being enough to cause him to orgasm once again.

He pressed the panties against his labia, his cock hovering above the fabric in an erect and foaming state. He craved this object to quiver, to sink in faster, biting his bottom lip as he riled his shoulders against his bed. It was roughly shaking, causing Hamilton to sweat as he groaned a few words out.

"H-Hey... go easy on me," was all he could muster, speaking to something he could not even fathom to exist. His clitoris continued to swell up against the cock being pressed deep into his entrance, furthering the tightening and squeezing around the thick object. "Ah... s-sorry I'm so tight," he breathed, attempting to separate the lips of his labia through the fabric, yet the force on the other side understanding clear enough. His entrance was being spread out to the edge of his inner thighs, the thickness taking up the space as it sunk in deeper, filling his entrance with its warm flesh.

It began to bob inward and outward, sinking further in and reclining as he moaned against the sensation. Whatever he had asked of it before had been useless in the scheme of things, the roughness of the penetration radiating through his skin. It seemed to swell as he pressed against it as he began to stimulate the bridge, clocking his head back to stare at the ceiling. This gift was causing him to feel more pleasure than he had felt throughout the past few weeks, maybe months, in all of their combined stature. Alexander, arriving to this conclusion as he stared down at his crotch being effortlessly torn through, smiled weakly as he began to converse yet again, a feeling of comradery and safety as he spoke aloud to himself.

"Y-You're almost there... C-Can you fill me up...? Ah... Come on, please?" There was a sense of pity at the edge of his choppy words, yet the force seemed oddly complying and a thick spillage of come flowed into his entrance, coating his inner lining as the thickness pulled out. The warmth smothered his G-spot, spilling out of his entrance and onto the fabric of the garments. He moaned, another orgasm setting in, sending his eyes to shut and his eyebrows to press together, another moan slipping out from his mouth as he lay in a heap on the mattress.

"It's so... so..." The words gently swam out of his mouth as he grabbed at his hips. "Y-You're so good for me... So thick and--" His voice was silence by another moan, fingers returning to prod his entrance. They quickly retracted as the metal door to his bedroom retracted its metal bars and was thrown open, Thomas shuffling in.

He stood beside Alexander, flicking away a strand of hair as he knelt down in order to place both his forearms onto the bed. "Are you enjoying the gift?"

"W-What is this?" His eyelids hung hazily open as Thomas pressed his lips against his, a tender embrace before he broke away. "How did you even sew something like this...?"

"You can take it off now if you want." Jefferson held the box in his hands underneath the bed, gently fiddling with Hamilton's clitoris through the gateway. Alexander sputtered underneath his breath, a smirk fading onto Thomas' face, jabbing the center with methodical rigor.

"Maybe in the morning... I-I really should--"

"Do you really want to, Alexander?" He brushed against the crook of Hamilton's neck.

"If I have to be honest," he paused as Thomas sunk his finger through the labia's lips, stretching them as he pressed as deep as he could, swirling the tip to stimulate the inner lining, "For the time being... I-I just... really want to lay here. I... I want to keep these on for a long time."

"How long? I'm just wondering."

He smirked as his crotch was aflame once again, the stimulation never seizing as Thomas fiddled with his cube. "If I was being rational... I'd say for the rest of the night, but if I have to be sincere--"

"You do."

"I'd like to keep them on for weeks straight, never stopping," he snickered, sighing as he relaxed into the bed.

"You've been going for quite a long time. It'd probably be best to take them off, get some sleep for tomorrow."

"I know that for sure."


	31. Aftermath

Hamilton had been in the shower stall for five minutes before he heard a stern knock on the door. "You have to get out before the employees arrive, Alexander." He had been led to the hygiene block, a quick shower before the six AM call out, in which he would thoroughly wash off himself and bleach all of the memories of last night. Every time he thought back to what he had done, he had to clench his throat in order to prevent vomiting. As he scrubbed his hair, the cold beads of water spilling down upon his face as he stared up into the faucet, he recounted what his life had divulged into. He was a shell now, under a hand of something he could not control.

He shut off the water by screwing the lever out to the side before turning, Jefferson sticking a fist full of towel through the curtain so he could dry off his face. "Thanks," he muttered as he stepped through the curtain, pulling over a thin black T-shirt that was hung over the side of a slab of granite next to him. "Yo, you think you could let me go today?"

"Uh-huh, that won't be happening." He handed Hamilton a pair of slacks from a clothing cabinet. "I could get Laurens sent here to keep you company, but... probably not."

"Aren't you waiting for him to come 'rescue' me or some bullshit?"

He smirked, laughing coyly to himself as he tilted his head to the side. "Tell me now, how many times would you walk for hours without a notice of where you were going?"

Alexander's blood ran cold, turning slightly towards Jefferson as he sighed, exhaling as he dried his hair off further. "Jefferson, I will never love you. Not for a second, anything even less. Know that."

"Sure, I'm positive of that fact."

"You sound sarcastic."

"I am." He gestured toward the door, smiling as he took a step towards it. "Why don't we familiarize ourselves with some of my employees? You met Mulligan already, Lafayette is wherever he is... Do you know Aaron Burr?"

Hamilton followed after him down the hallway to the ballroom. A few people stared at him as he passed, typing his hair up, a few strands falling out and flying daintily against his skin. Some people were whispering behind hands, hushed murmurs and spits of rage or terror. He leaned over Jefferson's shoulder, muttering in his ear, "What are they talking about?"

"You. Who else? Few get the privilege of walking with Master Jefferson."

"Never bring up your title ever again."

He simpered, a tongue sliding out of the corner of his mouth. He then grasped at Hamilton's jawline with his claw of a hand, pressing his shoulder closer to his. "Come on. Think of it as royalty." He gesticulated to the scenery around them, the crowds of people staring as they were courted down the middle of the ballroom. "I'm like the king and this is my kingdom, right? Subjects," he pointed to a group of older men shooting heroin into their forearms, "Gods," he pointed to a few dollar bills being swept through the crowd, "Fallen soldiers," he murmured, waving a hand over to a man without legs in a wheelchair across the room.

"I'm not your queen, if that is what you're leading on."

"Prisoner of War seemed a bit drastic," he snickered as he pecked Hamilton on his cheek. "Maybe treasure?"

"Prisoner. If you weren't looking, I'd be running."

He leaned out, continuing to walk over to the other side of the room with Alexander. "Burr!" A man of average height and a dark complexion spun back around, the smile on his face fading into odd puzzlement. "I would like you to meet Alexander Hamilton."

"Aaron Burr, sir!"

"Sure, I've heard plenty about you." He scanned Alexander, shaking his hand. His suit was perfectly ironed against his chest, a warm smile on his face as he gestured to the woman next to him. "Maria Reynolds."

"The pleasure is mine," her drawl, as thick as summer honey, dripped. Her fingers were fragile, her hair thick and red as she stared at him with half her face.

Thomas sighed, sneering at the group taking shape. "I'm glad the gangs all here."

"Sure." Hamilton murmured as he tightly squeezed Thomas' hand, a signal to leave as soon as possible in order to resist awkward situations. "I'll see you guys later, I'm guessing?" Thomas began to walk over to a door, in which the other man followed as their fingers interlocked, more in a forcing fashion than with any glimpse of affection. "Where are you taking me?"

"Mess hall. You get breakfast and I get to meet with Madison."

"Madison... What type of breakfast?" The name sounded fairly familiar.

He shrugged, pushing open the double doors to unveil cafeteria tables filled with men and women of all shapes, munching on plates and speaking with the people surrounding them. Alexander immediately felt out of place, yet Jefferson nudged the back of his shoulder blade, beckoning him to find himself a seat. "Go find your friend. He's around here somewhere, probably."

"Marquis." He scanned the room for a face he had maybe come in contact with before. It was easy to find him, tall and slouching over himself, speaking with someone across the table. After shuffling passed a few crowds surrounding the seats, he rushed up to Lafayette's table, sliding in next to him. "Hi."

"Alexander."

He lowered his gaze, the person across being a young woman and Mulligan. Laf's right hand had been reduced to a stump, leaving Alex's skin to grow cold. "Your hand."

"My rent."

"Ah," the silence growing too intense and awkward. He raised his head, making eye contact with the woman. "Who're you?"

She narrowed her eyebrows, picking at the plate of mashed potatoes and syrup, her stare relentless. "Angie." Her skin was the color of coffee, her eyes the same, the energy emanating from her stare causing Alexander to sigh in an uncomfortable fashion. Her voice was emotionless and tainted with a slight undertone of anger as she questioned, "Are you the herm?"

"The what?"

"Who says 'herm'?" Mulligan asked jokingly, turning slightly towards Angelica. "Isn't it intersex or something?"

Hamilton began feeling uneasy, interrupting, "Sorry, but what?"

"You have both," Angelica stated, causing Alex to blush profusely. "Right?"

"I don't. Who would tell you that?"

Lafayette shifted himself to face the person next to him. "Madison is quite the, how you say... 'Gossipy Bitch'? I am sure not everyone thinks what he said was true, but--"

"Who--Why would he do something like that?"

"'A herm's sleeping with Jefferson.' That's what he told some people," she admitted, her eyebrows lowering. "You're his pride and joy." Her words lacked any emotion besides a dull resentment, a cold disagreement, and something underlying that caused Alex to quiver before her glance.

"Are you saying hermaphrodite? I'm not a hermaphrodite!"

Mulligan murmured downward at the table, "Intersex."

"So," she added once the drama died down, "What are you then?" She picked at her mashed potatoes with her fork, jabbing it in its center. "You're a dude?"

"Yes!"

"But you have a vag--"

Lafayette budded in, "I know for sure that he does not have one."

Hamilton bit his lip as Mulligan stifled a snicker. "I'm a guy, and I don't get why Madison would say something like that, that... that descendant to the little macaroni fucker." The realization then snapped into his mind of last night, what had happened, and his heart skipped a beat.

"What about the rest of the ward? They think the same as me."

"How would they even think that about Alexander?" Lafayette muttered, unaware of Alexander hyperventilating next to him.

"Sometimes I have a pussy," he finally admitted, Angelica giving him a boi-what-the-hell-are-you look as she set down her fork. "Once I did, but then... like... I don't know. I'm a guy."

"What?"

"Magical shit."

"Hold on. What?"

Alexander then realized his heart was beating against his ribs at an uneven pace. "Yeah, how could Madison even find out about something like that?" Mulligan was not helping, causing Alex's heart to quiver deep into his back.


	32. Payment

"What in the hell was that?"

He had thrown open the vault door to Jefferson's office only to see him reclined back in his swivel chair, gently shaving his nails. He resisted eye contact from the other. "You're here early--"

"Did you tell Madison?" He paused in order to climb through into the office, his hands barreled into fists. "Do you tell Madison of all the shit you've done? But you can't even tell him the whole truth to save your own--" Jefferson swayed forward, closing his eyes and smiling calmly. He placed both sets of fingers underneath his jawline, staring up at Alexander as he stood pissed in the center of the room.

"He wanted to know what I was doing last night."

"What... What _were_ you doing last night? When I was alone?"

Jefferson's eyes snapped open, a slight pale streak across his face. "Uh-huh, well... I was discussing it with Madison."

"But you can't discuss it with me." He took a seat on the velvet couch. "I already don't think of you highly. Whatever you tell me now isn't going to change my opinion of you, I hope you know that, Jefferson." His words were leaking with anger and strain, the tension growing thick around them. "Unless you're some cannibal preparing to eat me. Or you're ready to kill me. I plead with you, kill me now."

"Yep, so I guess you should know about last night."

"Oh?" His smile was incredibly sarcastic, a tad snarky as it always had been.

Thomas pulled out the box from the top drawer, its place over the Polaroids, and placed the garments next to it. He stared forward into Alexander's eyes as he shoved his nail file through the box's side. The edge poked out through the center of the panties.

"Hell no." Alex stood up, taking a step forward towards the box. "Do it again."

"What is there to explain? That's what I was doing."

He recalled what had happened hours before, understanding and explaining every detail to himself. Staring downward at the display Thomas had propped upward, his neck ran cold. "That was you doing that last night then... and it..."

"Couldn't have been. I mean, I can prove that both lengths were the same, but that's about it." He raised his eyebrows, a deceiving look plastered across his bright complexion. "I know what I like, Alexander, and what I need right now is your skinny, little ass wrapped around my--" The vault door slammed open, the secretary poking her head in playfully.

"I didn't disturb anything in here?"

Jefferson smirked warmly, his gaze passing Alex's blushing yet disgusted face. "Not at all. When is the meeting again?"

"Fifteen minutes." She fixed the vault door back into place as silence resumed.

"I've got time," he muttered, standing up from his swivel chair. "You," he pointed to Alexander as he tugged his arms through the cuffs of his overcoat, "You need to help me with something." He pulled a musky typewriter from underneath his desk, his cane residing next to it as if it were yearning to be seen. "I need you to write a letter to a French partner of--You speak French, right?"

"Yes..."

"--Partner of Medicine and Anesthesia in which," he gently swiped through the keys, "We cannot send him required medication on time as we are deprived of such materials."

"Which medication?" He stood up, eyeing the typewriter as if it were prey.

Thomas slipped a piece of paper in Hamilton's hands, a list of names--Xanax, Lipitor, Nexium, among others--describing the amount of cargo in each. "Some employees here tend to ask for meds rather than payment. The ones with checks next to them are out of stock." He started for the vault door, a rather strange look on his face as he walked, his heels clicking against the floorboards. "Oh! And what should I give you as payment?"

"Hmm?" He took a seat in the swivel chair.

"Payment. For doing this for me."

"I can't really do much with money, given my current arrangement."

"I'm not talking currency," he murmured as he withdrew his hand from pressing the door's button for it to snap open, "More like... We'll talk after the meeting." With that, he stepped out through the vault's door and disappeared out of Alexander's sight as the man viciously typed away, a passion returning to his core.

Laurens stepped out of the bookstore, his face pale as he glanced around for any sight of Alexander. It had been a few days since he returned home and, with the current Amber alerts and police calls radiated throughout NYC, a dead boyfriend was something he did not want to come home to. He sent another text to Laf before making his way down the sidewalk, hands deep in pockets as his cold breath trailed upward into the blue abyss above.

"Mister! Ah, Mister!" The voice was light, a bit shrill but something that almost emanated charm as he turned around only to see a rather short woman with frizzy hair step up behind him, not a foot apart. "Secretary Peggy Schuyler. I have urgent business from the warehouse."

"What?"

"I was sent to fetch you. I was just about to head down to your apartment."

Laurens backed up, his eyebrows bunching up in confusion. "I don't believe we've met--"

"No, I was sent down on important business protocol. Have you been searching for a Mr. Hamilton?" Laurens' eyes lit up, a smile forming on his face.

"Everywhere!"

"He is being kept in the warehouse," her grin faded exponentially, a grim expression replacing it. "I'm sure you shall not search for him. You'd be as good as dead, if I have to be honest with you, sir."

He began to peer around in manic order, not knowing where to even begin. "Can't I call the police or something?"

"I'm afraid it's just going to be you, sir."

"Why do you call me that?"

"Hmm?"

"'Sir'. What do you mean by that?"

The woman was taken aback by this, her fingers fiddling mercilessly. "Well, it's just a title, see? I don't mean anything by it. Just something I was raised to say."

"You know my name, right?"

"Mr. John Laurens of Apartment Number 256. And your lover is the one you have been searching for, yes? Mr. Alexander Hamilton of Apartment Number 256, the one being kept as a ward by Master Thomas Jefferson of Main Office Number 31-456--"

Laurens held his palms out in front of him as if asking her to seize. "Ward? Like, as a fucktoy?"

She nodded, chirping, "Yes! Yes, like that."

"Like me."

"If I remember."

"This is a trap, right?" He turned away suddenly before Peggy extended her arm, grasping him by his shoulder.

"I was not sent by Master Jefferson."

He turned back. "What?"

"I was sent by a..." Her words leaked hesitation and almost deceit. "Yes. Yes, that's it. No... No... I wouldn't lie to you," she rambled, "I came here myself. I was going to originally lie, state it was someone else, help them receive blame, but if I must be honest, I came for you myself. I am in charge of numerous surveillance units and I am in charge of monitoring Mr. Alexander."

He was silent for a few seconds. "And?"

"I am worried with him and Jefferson's... relationship, whatever it is. I'd wish you asked for his release."

"And get my ass kicked."

"I could help!" She retorted before inching backwards. "I could try."

"Look, thanks for the help, but I shouldn't mess with this."

"But what about Mr. Hamilton?" She called out finally as a last resort, Laurens stumbling away down the sidewalk. "He could die!"

Laurens shouted back over his shoulder. "I could die!" He continued his stride, hands buried deep in his pockets. Peggy followed soon after him, her hands balled into pleading fists towards him.

"But, please, mister--!"

"I'll think of something, okay?" He stopped, easing her tension.


	33. Monster

Hamilton had been working for a few hours, finishing up the letter before the vault door slowly opened, a grim aura entering the room. The meeting had been finished, as presumed by Thomas' expression riddled with disgrace as he tugged off his overcoat, throwing it to the floor as his button-down white top, the bottom stuffed into his black dress pants, revealed itself. His eyes had returned to their average slits, a yellowish tint replacing the whites, and his hands seemed ominously more gnarled.

"Please tell me you finished," he muttered, a tired bit of exasperation dripping from his voice as he sat at the edge of the couch, rubbing his eyes.

Alexander was silent for a moment before rambling, "Is everything alright?"

Jefferson responded with an equal bunch of silence as he opened his eyes daintily. He lowered his eyebrows as he murmured, "I guess you want something for what you've done. I can comply, but I need you to do one more thing for me."

"What exactly?"

He sighed deeply, his palms leaving his face as he stood up from the couch. "I'm really stressed today, and I need to relieve some of that tension, if you get it." Alexander's face went pale, his nails digging deep into his palms. "But I just want to make sure you're fine with it."

"Fine with what? You're being--"

"I've been meaning to take inventory of all of my... objects... and I was thinking if I should test them out on someone before I decide if I should trash them or not." He placed both his hands on the desk in front of Alexander, trying his best to revert from an intimidating facade to a more calm face.

"So, is this supposed to be a birthday present?"

"What--Oh, wait, your birthday," Thomas murmured, rolling his eyes sheepishly, "Sure, sure." He took a key out of his dress pants' pocket, walking around the side of the desk before plugging it into the slot. The hallway door began to open as Alexander stepped up and out of the swivel chair. Jefferson began to strut across to the bedroom, Alex soon following.

He began to unlock the metal door, Alexander fiddling with his fingers behind him. "So, what exactly do you have locked away in here?"

"I have a collection, and I need to try them out as quickly as possible. I could just send them to the Sun room," he pushed the door open, "But why not just try them out on you? Lay out on the bed," he directed, walking over to a closet that had been built into the room days before. Alex did as he was told hesitantly.

"I'm guessing I have to take off my--"

"You decide if you keep the shirt. It won't help you much." Alex unzipped his jeans, stepping out of them as he sat on the edge of the bed, staring downward. He had been a bit numbed to this sort of treatment, all the fear resting in the back of his mind as he tried to concentrate on coming home. He could feel Laurens arms around him, the warm reassurance holding him together at last. "Don't be nervous," Thomas could almost feel the palpable anxiety, "I can either go slow or try them all at once."

Since the thought of having three objects shoved up his ass made him want to vomit, Alex asked for the former. "And how about you tell me what they do before you try any of them out."

"You remember those panties, right?" He called from the closet, the words sending a chill down his spine. "I bought something similar. Fucking witchcraft."

"Similar? Like boxer briefs or something?" He sat down in the center of the bed, his legs almost crossed in front of him.

"Sure, sure." Just as he said this, a phone began ringing out from the closet, presumably Thomas'. Alex laid down, attempting to make himself comfortable as he noticed Jefferson rush out of the closet, face pale as he typed quickly on his phone. "Well, I guess you really did kill one of my employees."

Alexander remained quiet, sitting up as a cold chill crawled down his spine. "W-What?" He edged to the front of the bed, noticing the whites of Thomas' eyes grow eerily yellow as he sighed ominously. James Reynolds. He had landed a punch against the underside of the man's nose and, due to the amount of borderline assault-ish vibes radiating from the situation, allowed himself to maim the other man mercilessly before he had finally come to his own senses and stopped. "Do you know what he did to me?"

"Reynolds. He was always a character," Thomas murmured, leaning against the wall as he sent a smirk towards Hamilton. "I get it. He was a glorified perv. And you killed him."

"Do you know what he did to me?" He repeated, his words growing harsher. "For a guy all about consent, you're a goddamn hypocrite."

"I watched--"

"Why? Why in all fuck would you watch that happen and _do nothing_?" His heart was racing now as he stared downward at the edge of the bed, sighing. "You think I don't have emotions, like... like I'm just a goal to keep yourself busy? L-Like everything you do now won't affect me in five years time, like this whole event you're putting me through won't scar me for life." He remembered the branding on his back. "Do you know how it feels that if I ever... I don't know, start a family, go to a doctor, wake up in the morning, I'm going to be reminded of the fucking cuts you burnt into my back? Like I'm a horse or some crap?" He was smiling now, not making eye contact with Thomas.

Jefferson was silent before he muttered, "You killed--"

"I'm a husk, you prick. I'll never be the same after the shit you're pulling me through--"

"Remember when you killed ten men off the bat to get Laurens back? Remember when you indirectly murdered innocent men? The only man I ever killed was--" His voice trailed off as he changed the subject. "My intent was never to hurt you."

"Who did you kill?"

"I don't--"

"Answer the fucking question, Jefferson," he was on the edge now, staring directly into Thomas' eyes, "You monster."

It was the straw that broke the camel's back, a few seconds passing as Thomas was holding Alexander down against the bed by his throat, his nails digging into the other man's neck. It wasn't enough to choke him, but it was enough to dig deep cuts into his neck, causing him to wince. "I don't have to tell you _shit_ , and I don't need you to scrape back some dirt on my conscious."

"Get off."

Thomas went silent before unhanding the other man, stepping back slightly. "Laurens was raped that night, right? And somehow, I was there, and that's when I saw him for the very first time. I killed the fucker and left." He sat at the edge of the bed beside Hamilton, rubbing his eyes.

Alex was silent as he slowly sat up, slouching as he attempted to comprehend the situation. "You... you kill--"

"Yes. It was impulsive, and stupid, maybe, but the freak is dead. Dead for a while now."

"And you've never directly killed anyone else?"

"...Yes."

"Are you lying to me?" He turned his head, staring into the side of Jefferson's. The other man turned to face him, his eyes bloodshot before he laid down on the bed, sighing. He closed his eyes, breathing deeply.

His eyes snapped open as he murmured, "I wouldn't lie to you. Not anymore."

"So, should I just assume every other word that came out of your mouth was a lie."

"Sure--"

"You waited to kill him after it happened, right?"

There was a brief bit of silence before Jefferson closed his eyes and whispered, "Yes."

"And you did that because you're a sick bastard who can't--"

"I did it because he had a knife," he murmured, flipping himself over to face the other side of the room rather than Alex, "A dagger. I watched, waited for weakness, and just as he backed off I... I didn't want it to end like that."

"I would have done worse than--"

"I know you, Alexander. The average man won't murder under any circumstance. You can say that you'd fight the villain, give justice... If you kill someone, Alexander, you're a husk. You've desensitized yourself. You're numb. I've never killed other than then. You can't say you'd do something else at that time," he sat upward, "You weren't in my place."

"I'm sorry."

"And--" He stopped himself, finally absorbing the words Alexander had said. "What?"

"I'll never understand what went through your head, and I shouldn't try. You may be the reason I'm contemplating living, but you sure cleaned up one loose end. You should tell him."

"Tell--"

"Laurens, when he finds me here."


	34. Fluff & Filler I

This filler chapter was based off the prompt - Your OTP/+ decides to play a new game: One of them has to sing a song while the other/someone else pleasures them, and whoever’s voice doesn’t crack or go off-key wins - as this book will soon be finishing and I'd like to fill it with some cute bits before the final chapters arrive.

It had happened a year ago.

"Aye, Alex." He had been scrolling through an Instagram meme page for over an hour before Laurens popped his head in, both eyebrows raised. "I had this idea."

"Listening."

He stepped inside, well-hung in his nether regions and completely exposed except for where it didn't matter--A Flaming Lips T-shirt wrapped around his torso. "Okay, so I found this thing on Snapchat--"

"Snapchat is weird as hell."

"--So, one of us has to pleasure the other while the other sings. Whoever stutters or cracks first loses. The winner gets to pick a prize." He took a step towards Alexander, who stood up slightly to take a seat on the small twin bed. "I'll let you pick who goes first, just because I kind of know who's going to win." Alex stood up, still looking down at his phone as he began walking forward and out through the bedroom door, a smirk across his face.

"I'm feeling quite dominant today...I'll go first," he sat down on the couch, his face tilted towards the doorway as Laurens walked out into the living room. "If neither of us cracks, we can have multiple rounds. Fair?"

"Yeah, which song are you singing?" Laurens kneeled down in front of Alex, his head reaching just below his ribs due to his height. He began to unbuckle Alexander's pants as the other leaned back into the cushion of the couch, biting the bottom of his lip. He had a snarky look on his face, usually not being top in these situations but enjoying it when he could.

He sighed, brushing through his locks of hair. "It's a surprise, and I will _not_ be losing."

"Uh-huh," he undid his briefs before leaning in slightly, his tongue pressing gently against the tip of the man's cock as it lay held in his hands. Alex felt the familiar shiver, the twang in his lower abdomen and crotch, but he continued smirking anyway, closing his eyes as he clicked his head backwards, concentrating on lyrics rather than the sensation in his lower area. "Sure about that?"

" _Sleep on me, feel the rhythm in my chest, just breathe,_ " he began, Laurens snickering as he continued to tease.

"You're going to have to be louder than that."

" _I will stay so the lantern in your heart won't fade,_ " he serenaded a bit louder, the sensation in his lower half causing him to almost buck his hips slightly. " _The secrets you tell me, I'll take to my grave. There's bones in my closet, but you hang stuff anyway._ "

"There's a bone in my pants, but we don't talk about that one," Laurens laughed as he prodded Alexander's entrance as well, sinking in a finger as he continued to tease his length, a smile inching along his face as he did it. His eyes were closed during this time, his eyelashes curled against his cheekbones. Alex could feel his tongue hit a certain spot that caused his crotch to feel extremely warm, yet he attempted to ignore it.

He continued on, " _And if you have nightmares, we'll dance on the bed. I know that you love me, love me. Even when I lose my head._ "

"I'm going to sing a ballad that'll put this to shame," Laurens muttered in a muffled tone.

"Well, my voice isn't cracking. Want me to change the song?"

"Sure." His voice was shattered once he continued forward, his lips around the length as he raised his eyebrows, letting his eyelids close. A smile formed on his lips as he could feel Alexander stagger into place.

He could feel a few drops of fluid pour out through his tip, that bright orangish-pink feeling in his lower abdomen and V-line, yet he seized to quiver. He wasn't one to lose a competition so easily. " _C'mon, baby, listen, there's some things you ought-ah know, my look about this love is I don't know where it's gonna go_." There was a grin across his face as he shifted his head back into the couch, feeling as if his lower half would buck any second. " _Don't tell me that I'm different, although you can try to show me, other ways to go about it, I already know_."

"Simon Curtis--" His words were melted and stuffy as he continued to prod and slather along the other man's member. He could feel Alexander's hand on my back of his head, pressing his face in further.

" _This is a relationship in which I make a sacrifice. You take the cut and split it up and leave the body paralyzed. Unable to break free of it, to listen and to realize that's just what you gotta do, you take the ride, you pay a price_." He pressed in further, the edge of his length being tenderly gripped as slightly moved his hips forward. It was simply a reflex, yet he knew that he would soon be reaching that familiar edge of the cliff that always caused at least a bit of stuttering. " _Hey, what do you want me to say?_ " His center was feeling extremely warm now, almost enough to cause him to sweat. "Tell me, are you ready? Give you everything you want-a, give me everything you need." His voice stuttered slightly on "want", but Laurens didn't seem to notice as he continued to press forward.

He began to feel that sort of eclipse before the release, as if his entire lower half was stuttering just as much as he was trying not to. He attempted to ease this by pressing his back closer into the couch, concentrating on the lyrics rather than how it felt, even if it felt like constant euphoria was melting away his skin. " _I got a soul for sale, a soul for sale_."

He flicked his tongue against Alexander's tip, a bit of pre-come dripping into the roof of his mouth as he gripped a bit rougher. The next line began with an "Oh", yet Alexander was glad to reach this part, as a moan could escape his lips without losing. " _What do you want me to be? Show me 'cause I wanna give you everything you want, just give me everything I need. I've got a soul for sale a soul for sale_." He bit his lip as it felt something akin to a faucet being twisted, a spark of warm liquid leaking out of his tip. "Alright, how about you go next?"

Laurens inched away from Alex's length, licking around his lips as he grinned. "You think you're going to lose. How about we bump up the ante?" He stood up, unbuckling his pants as his erect member leaked out of his pants. "Spread your legs."

"It's cheating."

"I sucked your dick."

"Fine," he smirked, spreading his knees to either side as Laurens wrapped his arms around his waist, switching their positions and allowing him to slowly lower onto his cock , Laurens' back now to the couch and Alex facing him on his lap. He could hear the other man gasp. "This isn't--" A bottle of lube had been resting next to him as he coated and slathered the warm liquid over his length, Alexander slowly lowering himself down upon it. "I-I'm still not really used to this, without the singing."

His lips were still red as blush in the cold. "Yeah, but you can win if you try hard enough." The thickness felt as though it were the wide end of a tube of toothpaste, maybe a bit more in the girth side. It caused Alexander's crotch to buck slightly forward. "Come on."

" _For forty days and forty nights you worked it to seduce me. I'd listen to the lyrics of your song cause they amused me. The sing along did not last long--It started to reduce me to a puppet on the shelf just screaming, 'Puppet master choose me,'_ " he hummed as he was lowered downward, a few inches sinking into his entrance as he breathed deeply for air, knowing it would start to rub against that golden spot. " _So come on, baby, come on love me like a Kamikaze. We'll go down in flames together. Light it up like paparazzi calling out my name... The fame. The flames._ " He tried his best to just imagine the lyrics in his head rather than the sensations below.

"Doing well, babe," he murmured as he smirked, the strain around his cock causing him to buckle slightly upward.

" _They're all one and the same... So sign me up to love you... 'Cause I'm ready for the game._ " He stared downward at the pelvis pressing upward into him. "I-It's just choruses from now on. I think I won."

"I don't know... Maybe you should continue."

He sighed, smiling slightly, "Ugh... If you let me go now, I swear I can c-crack you, and if I don't you can double the punishment. But I will win, you turtle fucker."

"Sure." He pressed him upward, allowing him to stand up in front of him. "I'll be right back, love." He kissed him on the forehead as he slipped out towards the bathroom, the bottle in his hand as he tied his hair tighter, leaving Hamilton staring at him as he strutted away.

WILL BE CONTINUED


	35. Fluff & Filler II

"Aye, you want something from the fridge?" John asked as he tied his wet hair back into a bun, Alex sitting patiently on a stool by the center island. "I'm thinking, hey, what if you pick what I have to sing. Make it interesting." He opened it, pulling out a half-full bottle of Sam Adams, sipping it as he turned to face Hamilton. His elbows rested on the countertop.

"I'll give you a choice," Alex sighed, his hair tied back as well. "You know that time I showed you that mixtape from my SoundCloud?"

"Alright, so... it'll be some early 2000s indie rock, late 2000s glam rock, or... Sophie Meiers."

"Yep." He smirked, leaning forward with a hand underneath his jaw, "You know me so well... And I told you I felt more top today, so I was thinking either Look, but only the really good parts, or something by Adam Lambert--"

His eyebrows drooped as he took a sip of his beverage. "You're going to give me the most submissive songs."

"No, then I would give you Simon Curtis or Crywank. Lambert is dom."

"Not if I sing it!"

Alexander's mouth formed into a loopy W. "Flesh by Simon Curtis, boy." He bit his lip in mocked fashion.

"I swear to fucking god."

"Okay, umm... For Your Entertainment, because I know how much you _love_ Adam Lambert... the Look by Halpe, or... Simon Curtis. Literally anything by Simon Curtis."

"You sang two songs, so--"

"A mash-up!" He stood up slightly in his seat, a smirk across his face. "Okay, beginning of Look, _I'll_ sing the chorus of Lambert, and... the second verse to Flesh."

His eyes widened as he took another sip. "That's oddly specific." He then began to register everything, "So now you're introducing something I didn't expect, too catch me off guard, experimenting and shit. Won't work." Alexander began to snicker slightly, Laurens' face growing a salmon color. "What? It's not going to work. I'm more turned on as top, Alex."

"Everyone says that. And then they try sub."

"Not me. I guess I'm different."

"Uh-huh. And we'll do it in the bedroom instead of the couch. I can see a few Chinese men shoveling roadkill into dumpsters outside."

"Hot," Laurens muttered, sipping the beverage quicker now as he finished. "Yeah, fine, I can comply. I can comply, Alexander." He said his name sarcastically as he dropped the bottle of ale into the garbage can next to the counter. "How do you want me?" He began to tug off his T-shirt, his toned torso being slowly revealed as he tossed the fabric onto the tiled wooden boards.

"Over the counter. I thought it was obvious."

"That's the only way you can hit me, right? With your... height deficiency."

The tips of Alex's mouth dripped slightly. "5'7" is not short. It's average."

"The average height is, like, 5'10", or something like that. I'm above and you're below."

"How are you above? You're like 5 foot... foot--"

"6'2"."

"Shut up," he murmured as he shoulders sunk, a smile forming on his face. "It makes me feel bad."

"How about I'm sitting and you're on top, like," he sat down on the stool next to Hamilton, facing him, his legs slightly spread apart, one forearm on the counter, "This, facing me." Alex tilted his head to the side as he began to unbuckle his jeans. "A bit of foreplay would be nice, though. I'm not even hard yet, if I have to be completely honest with you, babe." He seemed rather uninterested with his eyes half-closed and his smile faded.

Hamilton nodded as he stepped off the seat, his hands now on either side of Laurens' waist. He stepped up into his embrace, their lips touching smoothly and softly yet coarse, Alex's eyelashes fluttering downward onto his cheekbones. Both of their pelvises touched, Alex grinding gently against Laurens', groaning a subtle hum under his breath as he did it. Laurens was never one to use tongue, yet he was one to tease, licking gently over Alexander's bottom set of teeth and strumming gently along the tip of his tongue.

Laurens' hands had been gripped around Alex's lower back, pressing him forward on impulse. He bit the other's lip in response, a smile slowly emerging from his face as Laurens sputtered close to him. He continued to grind slightly, something that Laurens appreciated, pressing his lips a bit harder, a bit rougher, a bit stronger into the other, soon moving his left hand downward and into Laurens' lower wear, the fabric tugging along ever so slightly as Alex made his way in between the other's thighs, stroking the inch of skin in the front of his entrance. It caused Laurens' hips to buck slightly into him, giving him the satisfaction of Laurens' crotch against his own. Deliberately, his spun tiny circles into the area of skin, calmly moving it closer and closer to that specified point.

Laurens was the one to break the kiss, beginning to sing in a slight whisper, " _I think I love it when you hate me_ ," his words long and thick, especially when he hummed "love" and skipped a note on "hate", " _Be aggressive, don’t hesitate, babe. I think I love it when you hate me_." He smirked as he closed his eyes, concentrating on the sensation in his lower area as he hummed along.

He was rather taken aback by how Laurens paid attention to exactly what Alexander was doing. If he kept it up, at this rate he would be stuttering in seconds. " _Be aggressive, don’t hesitate, babe. When you give me that... When you give me that--_ " Now it seemed to fit together. He had picked a song that involving stuttering, involving cracking up. Laurens could orgasm any minute and it would most likely work with the song, if he had to be honest. Laurens had been relaxed, practically coming into his hand, but it didn't really matter.

Alexander, wasting no time to seize an opportunity, realized he could do anything to Laurens and he wouldn't lose, at least not at this point, and thus Alex gripped Laurens' cock with one hand and unbuckled his pants with the other. He shook it rough at the base, slowly circling upward as he occasionally bit down at the thin skin surrounding his collarbone. " _When you give me that look, like I did something wrong. You look so hot when you're all pissed off._ " His eyes had tilted back, now staring upward at the ceiling above him. Alex had been pissed, angry at the fact he had been cheated. He couldn't win now, not if he tried his hardest--

"Why don't you start your part?" He whistled calmly, his voice light and airy as he spoke, a small smile on his face coated in rapture.

"Give me a second," he muttered, stationing Laurens' hips closer to his V-line adjusting his dick so it stuck forward over his briefs, firmly erect. "You're fine with this?"

He nodded, closing his eyes again as he continued, " _Give me that look cause you know I've been bad. Can't resist you when you're mad._ " He began to bite his lower lip, the subtle smile still reigning across his face. Alex craved desperately to rip it off, maybe get him screaming or wishing for repentance. Mercy, maybe, yet he knew that wasn't in his character. He positioned his tip near the other's entrance, now facing up towards him. He sunk upward slowly, his hands near the top of the other's hips, pushing him closer as he bit down on the man's collarbone. " _Give me that look, give me that look. Give it to me like... Give it to me like..._ "

He was close, Alexander could almost feel the palpable edging he was excruciatingly drawing out, yet once Laurens came it was time for his part. Why had he picked an Adam Lambert song? He didn't have such a vocal range. He was strictly an Alto, never hitting a high note that he could remember. "Alright, this isn't my song. Just sing your part."

"Mmm-hmm." He was satisfied with Alex giving up on his end of the bargain, yet Alexander knew he hadn't lost yet. He needed to tilt him right over the edge. " _Hold my arms above my head, push my face into the bed 'cause I'm a screamer, baby, make me a mute._ " Alexander inched out before positioning himself, finally slamming into him again, realizing that he had hit the spot exactly. " _Y-You put your hand up to my neck and_ \--Shit!" Alex almost snickered as he stared down, noticing that Laurens was splattering out against Hamilton's lower abdomen. He repeated it, smirking as Laurens panted out a hostile groan, "Fuck."

"Alright," he muttered, finally tiring slowly as he pulled out and began to collapse forward into an embrace. His arms were wrapped around Laurens as he breathed deeply, Alexander's head in the crux of his neck. "What's my prize?"

Laurens breathed subtly as he gripped at Hamilton's lower back. "We can go out for bubble tea."

"What's--"

"Or ice cream, or the book store... or vinyl--"

"If... if you expect me... to walk a quarter of a mile to a bookstore, you're fucking wrong."

"Same," he mumbled. "We can do it in the morning. Right now, you need to get off me. The couch."

His voice was muffled as he buried his head in the other's shoulder. "Shut up."

"Alex, I can't sleep on a bar stool."

"Shmup up." He sighed deeply.

"Alex, I don't want to push you off."

"You won't."

He huffed, finally relaxing his shoulders. "I know."


	36. I'm Sorry

"Excuse me... miss?"

Peggy Schuyler glanced upward from the notes she was writing down, lowering her pastel pink pen next to the pad. A rather fake and colorful smile spread across her face quickly tapered into a dull confusion as she saw a man staring down at her, a balaclava and scarf covering his face as well as an opaque pair of goggles. His hair stuck out through a whole ripped in the back, formed into a bun, every curl spinning out into reckless abandon. It had to be Laurens, and the second she realized this, her eyebrows lowered as she whispered, "This is your plan?"

He bent down slightly, a stream of blush covering his face that luckily Peggy could not see. "Look, Ham has been gone for weeks and there's _way_ too much shit I've done because he's my impulse control."

"Uh-huh." She scanned his outfit.

"Do you even know what's happening in there?"

"I was the one who told you about it! And walking down here, just expecting them to hand him over... I told you the only reason they kept him was so you would--"

"Yo, Pegs--"

"Don't call me Pegs," she grumbled, resting her fists on the desk. "You're doing exactly what he wants. I've had to survey everything that's going on in there, and it makes me feel... Well, it makes me feel gross," her voice trailed off, "You know what Master did to you."

He knelt down, both arms on the desk and crossed. "Why do you call him that?"

"I've been here for years. That's what he tells me to call him. He did give me the best job he could."

"Huh?"

She sighed, looking away as she pulled a strand of hair back before staring back into his eyes. "I'm not going to go into my life's story, or any of my sisters' stories, or my family... The plan you have here is terrible, honey, and since you're already here... I don't know if you can leave. You hear about Mr. Aaron Burr?" There was a sparkle in her eyes as Laurens tilted his head down slightly.

"No." His words were slightly muffled.

"He just couldn't take his love dying and all... Mr. Burr sold everything to this company. 'Trade suicide'. Organs, skin, bones... He was a depressed man, played by this system. He couldn't leave, unless he simply... I don't know," she paused for a few seconds, "I probably shouldn't even be talking about--"

"I'm listening."

She sighed before stating quietly, "Well, all for his daughter. Practically killed himself and sold the remains to the warehouse. Covers his wife's funeral costs and his daughter's college... Anyhow, does any of this hit you as troubling? If you don't attempt to leave right now, lovely, you're as good as Aaron Burr's liver, or kidneys, or skin, if you understand what I'm saying."

"So... They want me, so they used Alex as bait. Well, I'm willing to trade." He stood back up, pointing to the vault door. "Let me in."

"Mr. Laurens--"

He pulled up his goggles. "Peggy, open the door."

"Please."

"You don't know what I have gone through in the past few weeks. _Let me in_." His words were fast and stubborn, becoming more impatient.

"Sir, if you leave now, maybe you can--"

" _What_ did I say the first time we met?" His voice was raised as silence filled the air. The back of his voice seemed to be choked, as if tears were about to sting his eyes. "I told you to not call me that. You call Jefferson that. You call, whatever the fuck his name is... Madison? Yeah, you call him that. Who else? Who else do you call sir, or Master, like this is some... some, I don't know. Some creepy-ass orgy ring."

She was quiet, her eyes widened and face pale. "I'm... I'm sorry--"

"Let me in."

"I... I can't let you do that."

"Let me--"

The familiar clicking of a cane could be heard walking down the left hallway towards them, the familiar sound of dress shoes clicking against the tile. Peggy dropped down to take a seat in her chair as she pointed her face down to her notes. There must have been warm tears in her eyes as Laurens turned, only to see someone of similar height and frizzy hair six or so feet away from him. Once he made eye contact with the other, a smile developed on the man's face, canine teeth gently grazing his lips.

"Laurens."

 

Alexander had been given a prized punishment usually listed by JOT Enterprises for what Jefferson had deemed undesirable from the previous night. His wrists had been tied to the back of his ankles, his torso jutting forward as he rested on his knees. He had been given a few hours stationed at a fucking machine before being left to dry, Jefferson leaving the room as he left the other sweating and panting from overstimulation, the warmth in his crotch and the sweat down his back almost unbearable. He also had to do this on the cold floor with a collar snugly tied around his neck.

"Goddamn it," he murmured as he breathed deeply, now collapsed against the wall and craving to just lose consciousness. He hadn't slept in thirty-six hours, deep bags dripping underneath his eyes as he also realized he had been forgotten yet again with any form of a diet plan, still remaining skin and bones as he usually had been. He closed his eyes, attempting to sleep.

Every part of his body was aching, his heartbeat abnormal as a few tears leaked out of his hung head, his hair undone. Thomas had taken a liking to branding him on his back with a flat rod, making marks in his back in a tally. He had done this around twenty four times over the night, yet eventually gave up and left, taking the brandings with him.

"I know you're watching," he muttered upward towards the ceiling. "I want you to kill me. End my suffering, or poison some water, something, please?" His voice was hushed, yet a grin was across his face, his words sing-song-ish. "Thomas... I want you to keep me in your closet, right next to the other toys you keep in your desk. I want to be hung in your closet.

"I want you to use me, Jefferson." His words were quiet as he leaned into the wall, the whites of his eyes widening as his grin remained. "Hang me by my throat by a hanger, alive, waiting for you to just use me, play with my shell all..." He paused. "Shit, I'm losing it. I'm really dying here. You sure did a number on me... I can't even escape, I don't really have the energy, Thomas. If I... If I just try to untie the ropes, maybe I can try to stand up, but I... I don't want to escape, Thomas. I don't want to see another day. Maybe if I just wait here I'll die. I'll die and this'll all be over.

"Laurens was too late, huh?" His voice cracked once he said his love's name, tears trickling down his face.

"I saved Laurens... but he can't do the same for me. I was wrong about him. Wrong about this. I should've swallowed those fucking pills, saved myself from this."

As he said this, the metal door opened and Jefferson stepped inside, causing Hamilton to lower his head to divert eye contact. "Nice monologue I heard from out there, bud." He knelt down, dropping his cane and bag off to the side as he began to fidget with Alexander's ties, allowing his wrists and ankles to be free. "Someone came by to see you today. I was glad to really see them again, but... After spending so much time with you, I really desire you more, you know? You can take what he couldn't." Alex was silent.

"Hmm... You only talk when I'm not here? That's kind of cute to me, anyway. I didn't finish the brandings from last night, but--"

"S-Sorry," he spat as cold as he could manage, "Who was it there?"

"Mr. John Laurens."

A cold rush sprinkled down his back as he spun his head around, staring into Jefferson's eyes. "Where is he?"

"He's proposing a trade, you for him. I told him it was very kind, but I'm perfectly happy with what I have now. I told him he could either leave and never return, let me be in peace and whatnot, or he could stay where he was. He pulled a knife on me, a very familiar one, so I deemed that a fateful choice."

"What did you do to him?" His words were but a whisper.

The metal door opened as Thomas rose to his feet, taking a few steps over towards it. "You can really just throw it in here. No need to be all careful with cargo."

Laurens was pushed inside, his balaclava and scarf missing, yet a few slits crawled over his face. His left eye was bruised and swollen as his nose bled, his body crumpling to the floor as Thomas left behind him, slamming the door shut.

The silence in the room was thick and requited as Laurens slowly stood and made his way over to the bed, about to lay across it when he noticed Alexander propped against the wall on the other side. His appearance originally alarmed Laurens, causing him to jump back as he began to realize that he had stumbled across his lost love, his heart racing as he walked around the bed and sat down in front of him.

"A-Alex--"

Upon noticing his voice, Alexander peered upward, staring directly into Laurens' brown eyes. "You're here."

"I... I'm so sorry--"

"Please shut the fuck up..." he whispered, a few tears continuing to fall, "I missed you so much."

"What happened? Can you just--" Alexander fell forward, hugging the other's torso as he breathed deeply, tears stinging his eyes.

"I told you to shut up, love."

Alexander and Laurens held each other close for a few moments before Laurens murmured in the other's ear, "Quiet down. We escape tomorrow morning."


	37. Dry Shower

Alexander and Laurens held each other close for a few moments before Laurens murmured in the other's ear, "Quiet down. We escape tomorrow morning."

\---

Every word he attempted to speak only caused him to recoil in pain and dizziness. "I've been-I've been trying to do that for _weeks_ , Laurens--" He shut his eyelids, his heart beating deep within his chest. "Everything hurts... I just want to--"

"Shhhhhhhhh--Shut up. Don't say that." Alex sobbed in a quieter tone. "Babe, I'm trying to help--"

"Please don't talk like that," his voice cracked, covering his face with his hands. "Shit, I tried not to--Fuck..." He whined out the last one as he grimaced.

Laurens held him close by placing both arms around the other's back, yet he jumped slightly upon feeling the brandings. Burnt skin and blood seemed to infest upon his fingers. "I... I'm--"

"Oh my God," Alex sputtered, a harsh smile plastered across his face. "W-Whatever you're doing, please stop." Laurens dropped his grip, staring off to the side as he felt at a scratch on his own face. The blood was a vibrant scarlet, his face brandished with maroons and purples, his skin beaten before he was thrown inside. He then looked upward to see Alex in front of him, both knelt facing towards one another. His hair was ragged and his skin bruised, as if he had not seen the light of civilization for years.

"We should wash up--"

"If I breathe, _it hurts_."

Laurens was silent for a moment before wrapping an arm underneath Hamilton's right side, standing up and allowing Hamilton to lean into him. "There has to be a shower somewhere in here."

"They don't... They don't have showers in cells--"

"Shh--Sit here," he muttered, sitting him down at the edge of the bed, his words shaking. "I'll look for a hidden bathroom or something."

Just after Laurens turned to look, Alex whispered, "But what if he comes back in--"

"I'll beat his ass, Alex." He kept walking, specifically towards the closet. "What's in here?"

"I don't look in there," he hushed under his breath.

"Huh?" He slapped the light switch, leading to rows of clothing and pleasure toys spread out in front of him. To the left of the walk-in closet was another door.

"I don't look in there." He peered upward. After a minor pause, Alexander called out towards Laurens, "D-Did you find something?" Laurens didn't make a sound, causing Hamilton to struggle up to his feet, standing as he brushed a few stray hairs aside. His voice was hoarse, "Laurens?"

He pointed his head out from the doorway before exiting the closet. "There's a shower in here, but I can't really find a light switch." He wiped off a bit of the blood stinging his eye. "We can just sit on the tiles until our eye adjust." Laurens turned back, entering the bathroom once again as Alex nodded, following after him. The bit of light shedding from the bedroom had allowed the shower in the corner to be seen, a spa bath next to it, and the rest of the luxuries assumed by such a place around it. It would not take much to believe that they were being watched.

Laurens pulled off his shirt as the other fiddled with the lever at the shower's base, allowing cold water to rain down from the shower head. The shower had not been attached to a bath, the utility just remaining by itself, yet it could easily fit more than three people at most. He stood facing the corner.

He heard Laurens enter, the shower door adjusting shut. "It's crazy that I haven't caught a cold so far into January."

"Hmm."

He could feel the other's irregular heartbeat as he allowed a bottle of Head & Shoulders to leak into his palm, reading the brandings etched across Alex's back. "When did he give you those?"

"What?"

"The burns."

"Oh, uh... Weeks ago for some of them. The lines were last night."

Laurens was silent for a moment as he combed the liquid through the other's wet hair. "When we get home, I'm thinking of... I'm thinking of maybe stopping our lease on the apartment, moving somewhere cheaper."

"You mean... out of city?"

"Maybe north New York, or Cali, or... or something like South Carolina."

"South Carolina?" Alex laughed at that, allowing the water to rinse his hair. "Your dad's from South Carolina, right?"

"Oh, yeah. So I guess not South Carolina."

"What? Just because one person makes you feel unwelcome doesn't mean it's not your home."

"I don't know. I grew out of my southern accent a long time ago."

Alex paused, "Do you still have some of it? The accent?"

Laurens cleared his throat, smirking as he rinsed his own hair. "Give me a phrase or something then, Alexander."

He turned around, the tiredness in his eyes and aches crowding his body seeming to dissipate. "Aw, c'mon. What do tall, attractive men from South Carolina usually say when their boyfriend's are hugging them in the shower?"

"You're not hugging--" Alex wrapped his arms around Laurens' neck. He could almost make out tears, yet the sweat and shower seemed to overshadow it. "Oh, well then... Umm... 'Alexander'." Just hearing his voice appear in such a trembling, dorky, western way made him snort. "Darlin', this may come across a bit ol' fashioned, but... would you just be my partner forever, pardner?"

"That's western."

"Southern and western are similar."

"It's not from South Carolina."

He put back on the falsetto. "Unlike me. If you were a galloping, wayward sheep jeopardizing this here cornhuskin' hole, honey, I'd wrestle you all night."

He laughed underneath his breath. "Did you just say that unironically?"

Alex perched upward, gently pecking Laurens' on the cheek as he hugged him closer. "Hamilton?"

"Yeah?"

"We should... We should just hide here, in the closet, and if anyone comes in then we can shank 'em or something."

"Laurens, we don't have any food."

"Or beds."

"Laurens--"

"But I have you, and if anyone even tries to touch you, I will cut off their hands. Both hands. Same time."

"Ha. Sure."

He was silent for a second before shutting off the shower. "You know I'm not lying, right? And I'll be there for you whenever."

"Well, if you're not there for me, then I don't know who is, besides, well, myself."

"I thought that was my job."

They broke away from their warmth, facing each other as Laurens smirked, yet his emotion was quickly shuttered by a noise heard outside of the bathroom. Laurens made a motion to quiet down, opening the shower door to leave Alexander inside. Alex stayed in the corner of the shower as Laurens moved in closer, preparing to run from anything that may have stumbled into their fort.

"Alexander?"

The voice made his skin crawl and teeth ache.

"Thomas," Laurens muttered, "You fantastic cuckold--"

"Please unlock the door."

"Why are you in the closet?"

"I'm waiting for Alexander."

"He's not with me."

"He's in the corner? Of the shower?"

Laurens shook his head, leaning against the door as he mouthed Alex to hide. "Nope. Not with me. I wouldn't tell you." Alex pushed open the shower door as mouthed where he should go. After glancing around the room, he pointed to the side, where a vent was protruding. Alexander stared at it for a few seconds before shrugging, trying to pry it off the sides.

He made a punching motion, signalling Hamilton to knee in the grate, even if it caused a great deal of sound. Jefferson continued to order someone behind him to intrude. "We will be entering in under a minute. I don't want you tonight. I just want Alexander. If you just hand over my love, your execution tomorrow won't--"

"Aye, he's not yours. And he's not mine." Alex's eyes widened, staring at Laurens as the other furrowed his eyebrows. "I won't be dying tomorrow."

"Yeah, I'm guessing three minutes."

Laurens continued to press against the door, Alexander finally pulling apart one side in order to slither his way head-first into the grate. It automatically shut behind him, the slits of artificial light creating the brief outline of Laurens' quivering body against the angry shouts of the other side. "Let him go, while you're still sane--"

"A hundred and seventy years... You think I really want to be doing this? Finding somebody to fuck to until my organs rip themselves apart?" He quieted. "And to think, he was the perfect candidate. A slut. He wants to be here!" He turned towards the door, his voice becoming audibly louder. "Because he knows that he'll never get satisfaction without his loud mouth being wrapped around my aching, pulsing--"

Laurens stepped back from the door, allowing Jefferson to step inside, his shock causing him to be slightly uncoordinated. His fingers were clenched around a taser.

"He's not here."

"You saw the scars on his back?" A few men walked in from behind him, holding blinding flashlights. Alexander retracted back in the vent.

"The burns."

"Let's just say, thanks to him, I don't have snake eyes anymore." His grin caused Laurens to step back, his heart racing. "Oh, the taser. No, no, that's just in case you two were still in the shower, but no one really likes burnt ham." He cackled slightly at his own joke. Upon noticing Laurens suspenseful grimace, he continued, "Come on. If you're going to be residence to the warehouse forever in the afterlife, roaming these halls as some ghost story, maybe you should relax a tad?"

"He's not here, Thomas. If I tell you where he is..." He peered upward at the ceiling. "Pause the execution." Alexander's blood ran blistering cold.

Jefferson paused before nodding to himself. "Continue."


	38. Tags [BAD ENDING]

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> If the reception to this ending is positive/negative, I may decide on changing it. It's purposefully ambiguous, and heavily so, where certain things that I've said previously may or may not be true.
> 
> ~See you next time, boys.~

"Under the bed," he muttered, staring down at the tiles beneath him.

Jefferson gestured out of the bathroom and three men plowed out into the bedroom. He kept his eyes on Laurens, pulling the taser close as he shut the door behind the men. "You really did hurt me, Laurens. Rejecting me for saving your life that night? When you couldn't even speak?"

"You may have saved me, but I'm not in debt to you or some... some excuse that doesn't fit in here--Put the taser down."

He dropped the weapon to the tiles, the sound causing Alex to freeze and listen closely.

"This conversation is dead as it stands, like you by tomorrow."

"Just kill me now then? Is that really a problem?"

He sighed as he slowly pulled out his phone, staring down at it. "You're terrible at bluffing. I am, as well. You probably knew that early on... Oh, well, I must request that you simply just kneel on the ground." He pulled something else out of his other pocket, a dagger wrapped in between in fingers.

"Bluff. It was a bluff--"

" _I'm_ not, Mr. John Laurens," he raised his voice, taking a step towards the other. "This can only be taken so many ways." He checked his phone once more before holding the knife higher. "You... Alexander is not under the bed, I have discovered. We will find him, eventually, either dead or alive. I would prefer him alive, but, well, he probably prefers the same for you."

"Thomas--"

"I'll make sure your organs are shipped out, cleaned out, skin... Foxes don't waste any part of the rabbit--"

Laurens stepped forward, grabbing at his opposite hand as Jefferson fell into him, pressing the knife clean against Laurens' center, between his ribs. He pushed upward on the base of the handle before drawing it out, the blood coating the blade dripping as he dropped Laurens to his knees, the whites of his eyes seeming to glow in the bathroom's dim light.

Alex watched on, staring at Laurens' collapsed body as if he could never stop. His breath grew harsh, staring as the numb, deep feeling inside him instilled. Jefferson turned and dropped the knife, taking slow steps out of the bathroom, closing the door behind him as Alex clambered to push open the vent. He knew it was a reckless mistake, that if Thomas heard him he would be up for the torture for the night, yet he progressed. Maybe he hadn't seen correctly.

He sneaked out from the grasp of the vent, now facing Laurens, who was clutching the wound to his chest. There was a smile on his face, plastic yet plastered as it may be, his hand shaking as he slouched.

He perched himself underneath Laurens' arm, pressing his face roughly into the chest of the other, blood swamping his skin. His heart raced, the tears being covered before now peppering his cheekbones. "W-What--"

"I don't feel anything here," he murmured, feeling around the cut. "It's numb, like it's not even mine...

"That's... That's not okay." He paused, pushing against Laurens as he breathed in deeply. "Lay back. The blood won't pour out as--"

He wrapped his arms around the other, "Lay with me." His voice was cracking, the blistering panic probably setting in.

"What are you... Laurens?" The other was silent, falling back slowly as Alex laid on top of him. "Laurens."

"Sorry." He stared upward at the ceiling. "Lay next to me."

Alexander did as he was instructed, allowing himself to lay next to him on his left side. "Laurens, you have to let me help you--"

"Agh--Alex, I want you to just lay with me."

He quieted down, closing his eyes as tears left them. He hugged the other close, feeling his chest as the cold blood seeped out, his eyes becoming blurry. "You've survived worse than this--You're not going to die--"

"I wish when I was with you, we had... money and shit. Like we accomplished something," he paused, closing his eyes, "More than this."

"I can look for something. We're in a bathroom... There has to be gauze in here or--" Laurens pressed the back of his head in, allowing his face to become muffled against Laurens' chest, Alex's arms wrapped around his neck, sobs beginning to spark, "I'm _sorry_."

"I want you to find a way out--"

"If you don't make it--"

"I won't make it, babe," he went silent, biting his lip, "M-Maybe not, or... maybe..."

"Laurens?"

His eyes were closed, slightly dazed as he finally shook his head and stared upward at the ceiling. "I don't..."

"Laurens, c-can I just go look--"

"I want you to hold me when I die--"

"Y-You're not making any sense."

"Just stay here."

"I can't leave without you--"

"...I'm sorry then." He paused before sputtering slightly, "Alexander, I love you a lot." His eyes shut.

"Laurens!" He opened his eyes, removing himself from Laurens' chest as he placed either hand on either side of his head, palms on the cold tile. "Open your eyes, you fucking idiot. You bastard, just open your eyes..." His voice trailed off, his back slouching. "It wasn't that bad! It was just a little cut--Open your goddamn..." He finally sighed out his breath, staring down at the pool of blood accumulating on Laurens' chest and the red splotches across his own. He breathed in before sighing, a harsh moan of anguish leaving his mouth, interlaced with sobs.

He was going to wake up, or at least relapse and say some deep, philosophical final speech. He had to give something more than just yearn and beg for death.

The knife.

He turned, grasping the blunt of the knife in his hand. The outside of his mind seemed to move too slow for his liking as he stood up, clutching it as he faced the mirror, the bags under his eyes and blood stains prominently glistening in the reflection.

"Laurens?"

 

"Isn't it beautiful, my own circle of Hell..." He muttered as the smile leaked clean off his face. He had been sitting in a wooden chair, facing the one-way mirror with Alexander on the other side. "That scum seemed to trick me once. Acting like a possum... He'll be back for you. I know him well, darling."

The other man was stationed on his back on the floor, a vibrator attached to a metal rod being throbbed inside and out, a thick cloth tied around his mouth as he clocked his head back. Several lacerations were scattered across his arms and neck, his body pulsing around the machine fucking him deeply. Thomas had the machine purposefully moved closer than average just as an extra touch.

"He's tricky, isn't he... John Laurens... He left you, right? Back where he came from. His escape was one of my greatest defeats... but, oh, that was so long ago." He held the small metal plate in his hands, the buttons and levers flicking at it, just waiting to be chosen. Maybe the vibrator needed to be boosted to high speed, maybe the lights needed to be brighter, maybe somebody needed to be called in to condition him. He hadn't spoken to Jefferson in a week, or was it a month? A year? Had his last year been spent conditioning someone in his little torture room? It couldn't have been, it had to be a week.

He really had not been feeling as aroused as he had been with these hours lately. Alex screaming in a sort of lustful agony used to give me a hard-on in minutes. Now, he barely batted an eye at his love being--He couldn't lie to himself anymore, either. He had never loved either Alex or Laurens, or anyone. He became bored of them all too quickly.

"Remember what you told me all those... How long ago was it? Well, you asked if I was going to hang you in my closet. I knew you were just losing your mind, but... No, Hell has tormented you enough, right? Maybe you can cheat death and swim up to Heaven. Here," he pressed the power button on his control panel quickly, the energy from the room seizing, "I'll give you a head start, Hamilton."

 

 

 

alexithymia | _noun_ | alex·i·thy·mia \ ə-ˌleks-i-ˈthī-mē-ə \  
Individuals with high levels of alexithymia are usually aware of their emotional arousal; however, they have difficulty differentiating emotions and verbalizing them. —John S. Ogrodniczuk et al., The American Journal of Psychotherapy, 2004


	39. Tags [GOOD ENDING]

"He's not here, Thomas. If I tell you where he is..." He peered upward at the ceiling. "Pause the execution." Alexander's blood ran blistering cold.

Jefferson paused before nodding to himself. "Continue."

\---

Laurens took a step closer to the other, blush swarming across his sweating face. Thomas gave him a puzzled look, yet clicked his head to the side. "But why don't you like me like him? Like Alexander?"

"I know what you're trying to get at, and it's because he's easy."

"Easy?" Laurens thought for a few moments. Alex was the opposite of easy. Easy? Easy? He would fight any predisposition tainted with any opinion he deemed unsatisfying, he was headstrong, he could be aggressive and dominant if he preferred, he gave a man a smile that could melt even the roughest of bones, and he could fight off someone like Jefferson if he wasn't so beaten and bruised. "You couldn't be more wrong, Thomas."

"How so?"

He had the other's attention. "He's not easy, he's... He's lower than that. He's slutty and desperate and all the words you used to describe him," Laurens fabricated, a smirk flashing across his lips. It felt sort of wrong to lie in order to protect Hamilton, but it was protection nonetheless. "All those weeks ago, you and I both ended up fucking him mercilessly. I'll help you find him if we do it again. Call it a 'last meal' sort of thing."

Jefferson was silent for a moment, staring deep into Laurens' dark eyes as he gripped the taser in his hand. "Yet you still want to prolong the execution?"

"I was thinking, if you're up to it, we work him through the whole night. By morning, when we give out, you can execute me then. I'll be too tired to say no." Alex watched this display, beginning to be slightly unnerved by Laurens' disposition, but quickly understanding what was about to unfold. Laurens was giving him time.

He turned in the vent, moving away from the opening in the darkness. He could hear a distant fan in the background, his heart beating against his ribs as he shuffled along. Laurens' aura of a voice couldn't be heard once he turned a few corners.

He stopped when he knew how far away from the crevice he was, yet still far enough so if someone infiltrated the vents, he had a head start.

"Tell me, Master Jefferson," he hated calling him that, even if it turned Thomas on, "What did you plan to do with Alex once you found him? Hiding from someone like you should definitely score him some punishment."

He smirked, backing slightly as he stared further into the other's eyes. "I was setting up a new treatment facility and I had a few--things, left over. Alex already gave me an idea with what to do with him when he died or if he really betrayed me."

"And that would be what?"

He turned to the bathroom door, opening it as shreds of artificial light floated in. "I would finish the brandings. I'm only doing them to pass my curse onto him. Once he's fully infected, paralyze him and hang him in my closet."

Laurens gulped as he plastered a fake smile across his face, following him into the bedroom. "Alive?"

"Hopefully, if he lives through the conditioning," he stuck his hands in his coat's pockets, simpering as he continued to stare forward. "Where is he, anyway? Did you hide him under the bed or something?"

"No, no. He slipped out when you threw me in." He tilted away his eye contact.

"Really now? Where did he slip away to?"

"There was a broken spot in the moving hallway. He's hiding in the wall." He could practically hear something moving through the vents.

"Smart. I like how you two think. You make a cute pair."

Laurens sighed and snickered nervously. "Thank you. It's an honor to be with you again. I'm sorry about my behavior before." Everything he said felt plastic, almost forced. He hoped that Thomas couldn't see through him. Jefferson pointed to the hallway and three men hurried out. The two stood near the center of the room.

Thomas pressed Laurens' hips against his own, wrapping his hand around his right thigh. His eyes widened, beads of sweat slipping down his neck. He realized he left his shirt in the bathroom.

"You'll go from behind while he gets me off, right?" His voice was a slight murmur, as if he was imagining what he had been promised. Laurens was quiet for a moment.

"Y-Yeah. Anything for you." He wanted to beat the other's face in.

"Hmm... Using that stallion of yours to ram him silly," he added, lowering his eyes to Laurens' center. He almost vomited onto the carpet. "He'll enjoy it, I know he will. You agreed with me. He's easy and craving every damn second."

Laurens looked down to the side. "Sure did."

Jefferson could probably feel the palpable anxiety in Laurens' words. "Come on. He didn't even want you to help him out here. He's an ungrateful whore, what can I say?" He laughed at that as Laurens sighed. "Teaching him how to follow orders is what you can give him as a... parting-away present?"

"You're... You're absolutely right. You were always right with everything," he praised as Jefferson firmed his grip around the others hip. As he held the other close, Laurens fished a key out of one of Jefferson's overcoat pockets.

"What are you--"

Laurens interrupted him as he pushed the key into his back jean pocket, pressing into the other with a fake look of ecstatic emotion across his face. "And after we deal with Alex, you can do whatever you want with me... before the execution."

Jefferson was silent for a moment, raising his eyebrows as he looked away, his grip slipping. "I never thought you'd be so desperate--"

"No, no, not for anybody else. Not even Alex," that lie hurt him deeply to even express, "I'm just so enthralled with you. Just being next to you--the creator of such an organization--it's hard to even comprehend."

"Ah, you're just so--" The door to the hallway opened, one of the men standing there shrugging.

"He's not in there."

Thomas turned his head to Laurens, whose eyes were wide as he took a step forward. "He left and hid in the wall. He left me here," he promoted.

"Not a trace," the man began before the other man took a step forward.

"Go back to your rooms. Laurens and I will look for him." The words were solid and dark as a brief bit of hostility fluttered into silence. He nodded and turned back to the other pair, who were already walking down the hallway.

Once the three had left, Laurens turned to Jefferson. "I left my shirt in the side bath. I'll be back in a moment, Master Jefferson--"

"Please," he tilted his head to the side, "Call me Thomas."

\---

"Alex!" He muttered into the grate, opening it slightly. "Alexander?"

"Sorry, sorry," he turned a corner and exited the darkness, arriving at the entrance of the vent. "What's the plan right now? Do you have a plan?"

He whispered through the lines, "Is there a vent in Jefferson's office?"

Alexander thought for a moment. "There's one outside the door to his office, near the ceiling, above the door."

"Can you try to make your way up there?"

"Laurens, I can't see a thing in here--"

"Take my phone," he pulled it out of his back pocket, "And use the flashlight to see."

Alex received it through one of the lines, shrugging. "Okay, it's fine. I can't believe I never found this vent before."

"Why didn't you?"

Alexander was silent for a moment. "I never had a chance to leave. I was always asleep or being tied to something."

"Okay, okay, yeah. Just run to that vent. I'll give you the signal to kick it open."

"I'll see you there." He began to turn away.

"And Alex?"

"Yeah?"

Laurens paused. "Please be safe."

"I will," he smiled before finally leaving, the scuffle slowly dying out.

Laurens spun back, pulling his shirt over his head and tying his hair up in a bun. He breathed deeply, sighing as he exited the bathroom, making sure the key was still in his back pocket. Jefferson was waiting for him by the bedroom's entrance door.

"It took you that long to find a shirt?"

"I had to put my hair up. It was giving me some issues," he excused as he pressed open the door, the hallway ahead.

The hallway from Jefferson's office to bedroom had walls that could open or close once a key was inserted, as Laurens discovered months ago. If someone had stood in the center of the hallway and the key was switched so the hallway's walls would close up, that person had to run down to the exit to resist being smashed to pieces by the walls.

John Laurens had to chance it.

Thomas stood in front of a wall that the men had drilled through, poking his head in to see if anyone was inside. Laurens leaned up behind him. "I'll check the other wall. Call me if you find him," he muttered before turning away, Thomas already nestled behind the wall.

He could hear rustling overhead in the vents.

"What was that?" Jefferson asked, almost poking his head back out into the hallway.

"I think I heard him on this side," Laurens lied again, knocking on the wall parallel to Jefferson. "Alex?"

Once Thomas returned inside the wall, he turned away towards the entrance to Jefferson's office, which did not have a door at the end of the hallway, unlike the bedroom. He had to insert the key quickly in order to negate suspicion. He took a few steps forward before he heard Thomas' voice again.

"What do you want to do to him tonight?"

"Huh?" Laurens murmured back as he attempted to jam the key into the divot.

"We both think he needs some form of discipline for what he's done. I was thinking... Maybe we could share him around."

Laurens sweat continued to sprinkle down his forehead. "Uh, how so?"

Jefferson's voice was muffled as he searched about. "Okay, yes, we can be satisfied by him first. Once we've had our fun, my love, we could invite a few of my employees to finish him off. I haven't really told you, but he's... Alexander is an object now. The day I finally get him to shut up is the day I put him out on the market."

"You would sell him on the black mar--"

"No, no. I have private benefactors who would love a tight, easy sock like him. They'd pay good money, and it may be hard to let him go, but it's for the best. It's business. I earn money off of him and get rid of my curse."

Laurens was quiet for a moment before inserting the key. "Ah."

"That was going to be you, all those months ago, but I changed my mind. The one they requested had to be on the shorter side, frail, a brunette--All very specific things. All makes a good sale."

"How much?"

"Hmm?"

"How much money do you need in order to sell Hamilton to me?" Laurens questioned, turning away from the key.

"I will not be selling him to you as you will be killed tomorrow morning." He turned back.

"I remember." He spun the key, the walls beginning to close in as he stood in the office, watching the hallway disappear slowly.

He could hear Jefferson feel at the walls and his pockets. He emerged from the hole in the wall. "What are you doing?" His voice sent shivers down Laurens' spine. The walls were around three feet apart now.

Thomas started to run down the hallway towards his office, towards Laurens, yet the walls closed in and as he stuck his arm out to gain leverage, his torso was pressed between the closing walls, his breaths weak.

"--Fix it," he squeaked, his arm extended. "I need you."

"I'd rather die." The walls closed.

Once Jefferson became silent, Laurens gasped, falling to his knees from stress. Once his heartbeat became apparent, he rose to his feet and turned, before realizing that his neck was being grasped.

Thomas pulled him back against the slit in the wall where the hallway's walls were desperately attempting to close. His voice was hoarse as Laurens choked, attempting to free himself.

The vault door opened slowly.

Alexander held the knife that Laurens had brought, his eyes bright and weary as he stepped into the office, his heart racing. He deliberately scuttled over to Laurens, around Thomas' desk and furniture, finally standing before the man being choked.

He grabbed at Thomas' wrist, slicing it quickly, allowing Laurens to escape the firm grip. The hand drooped, life retracting as Hamilton took a step back, finally breathing.

"Let's go."

 

 

 

alexithymia | noun | alex·i·thy·mia \ ə-ˌleks-i-ˈthī-mē-ə \  
Individuals with high levels of alexithymia are usually aware of their emotional arousal; however, they have difficulty differentiating emotions and verbalizing them. —John S. Ogrodniczuk et al., The American Journal of Psychotherapy, 2004


	40. Epilogue [GOOD ENDING]

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's been a good run. -Quinn

"It's bigger than the last place."

It had to be, and it was cheaper as well. A small cabin in Maine had to be cheaper than an apartment in NYC, yet this one had one bedroom, one bathroom, and a deck. Even if it was in the middle of nowhere, with the nearest neighbor being nestled deep into the forests surrounding their abode and the only exit being a road leading out into a nearby small town, it seemed almost cozy enough to be a home for them.

Most of their items could be packed into two duffel bags--all of Alex's clothes in one and all of Laurens' in another. They borrowed Lafayette's Honda Civic to leave NYC, and giving it back seemed improbable. By the time they had left, Laf had one arm amputated and liters of blood extracted. He wouldn't be needing a car anytime soon.

Laurens had gotten a job as a cashier for a drug store in the town a few miles away while Alex was a cashier at a Gifford's next door. Neither of them had even heard of what "Gifford's" was until they entered Maine. A Gifford's was on every block, every sidewalk covered in ice cream and cones. It was like a Starbucks location in NYC. They were everywhere. They were invading.

Now Alex had to hear ice cream jokes for the past week, such as, "You get my cream every night. Why do you need to get it at work?" or, "Make sure it doesn't drip down the cone." He didn't really mind it, as working really did take his mind off things.

Yet today was the day they moved in, for the past week had been working one day at the new job and sleeping in their sort of stolen vehicle. Laurens was carrying the duffel bags in while Alex practically dashed over to the shower. He pulled out his man bun and stepped inside while the other glanced around.

Having money now was... different, to say the least. Living in NYC had tapered their weekly allowance and their savings had been minuscule at best. Now, living in a small cottage north as north could be, the only thing scarce was the temperature, both in their winter coats as they walked inside. A loft and a spiral staircase held up the bedroom overhead while the kitchen and living room were below.

Laurens had heard from Peggy, who had gotten back together with Maria after Burr's death, about how Laf had planned to the send his remains to a Russian military camp. Mulligan was heartbroken to lose such a friend, yet he stayed in the organization.

After speaking with Peggy more, over the phone of course, it had been discovered that her sister, Angelica, was sold into the organization in her teens as a doctor's assistant. Eliza, the other, was an organizer for the Sun room, the brothel inside the warehouse. Eliza had gotten pregnant and died nearly a year ago, which was the reason Peggy had broken up with Maria in the first place.

Eliza's child, Phillip, lived with Peggy.

Laurens had asked her, as he and Alex slept in the Honda Civic one night, if they had known who the father was.

"Of course," she told him, "But I don't think you want to hear the story."

"Try me," he had said.

She responded, "Jefferson used to take pictures of you at certain times. You know this."

"Yes..."

"He had sent a few people at night to enter your apartment--not him, of course... to gather a sperm sample."

His heart had skipped a beat. "What?"

"He wanted to have Eliza to have your child, since he was so enthralled with you, that sick fuck, but the people he sent didn't know which of you was which, so they just took a sample from Alexander instead of you."

He was silent. "So, wait--"

"By the time Eliza had given birth... Thomas had found out. It's how she died, by him. You had to have known this." He voice seemed to be cracking, yet it readjusted. "That's how Thomas found out who an Alexander Hamilton was. He was so upset by what had happened, he planned what happened that night."

He peered over at Alex, who was sleeping in the backseat while Laurens sat in the passenger side. "Is Alex--"

"Alex is Phillip's father. He's the only memory of Eliza we have left."

"Why don't you send him up to us?"

"I don't think I could explain to him all of this. Just telling him that his mother and father died when he was born is easier than trying to explain all of this. But he's only one, he's only a baby, and when he starts questioning things, I'll just tell him that--Mom and Dad died, I'm your aunt, I'll be your mom. It's easy."

He hadn't told Alexander of what he had found out, and he didn't expect to ever. It would keep them both safe if they were as far away from NYC as possible.

He sat down on the floor, the duffel bags behind him as he withdrew his jacket from his arms. He thought back to the situation nights before, when he had asked Peggy, "Well, then why did he pick Eliza?"

She had paused, "I honestly don't know. Maybe it was because Elly wasn't deflowered yet, or maybe it was because he thought she was beautiful, like you were. I can't tell you, but I can say that when he found out about how she was pregnant... with the wrong man or whatever... He tried to plan an abortion, but it only killed her. Phillip survived, somehow."

"He lived without any side effects?"

"Oh, no. He's too young to really understand what could happen to him in the future, but... Right now, he seems healthy. A bit of an asthma problem, maybe, but his brain's alright."

"Still, the whole thing worries me--"

"Well, it sickens me that he even tried to, you know, artificially make you a father of a child that he wanted to claim. His thinking was if he couldn't have you, why not just, well, make a copy, somehow. But something messed up and nobody knew that Alex lived with you at the time. In the unlikely circumstance that the child was born, nobody thought it would survive, not even Thomas. He hoped the least.

"But Phillip lived, and somehow..."

"Yeah?"

"He looks a lot like you, Laurens, with his freckles and hair, but... But when you look into his eyes--"

"Huh?"

"He has to be a Hamilton." Peggy and Maria planned to adopt Phillip, to keep him safe from the past that tried so desperately to kill him. "And that scares me, honestly, how his name and his eyes could get him killed."

"Yeah, I understand--"

"You and Alex can never return to NYC."

"I know--"

"Or New York, for that matter," she sighed, "And how are you holding up?"

"I'm a cashier and Alex is working at Gifford's."

"Gifford's?"

"It's a Maine thing. It's like how New Jersey doesn't have a Hardee's."

"Hardee's?"

"Just forget it," he smiled, leaning back in his seat, his eyes wandering to Alex, who had one of Laurens' sweaters wrapped around him as a blanket. "He almost castrated a customer yesterday, but he's enjoying it, I guess."

"But what about you, Laurens?"

"Me?"

"Yeah. You never talk about yourself."

"What is there to talk about? I'm safe, I'm healthy--"

"Are you happy--?"

"Of course I'm happy, Peggy."

She snickered over the phone, "I hate that name... So many people call me Pegs--"

"Your name's Margarita. That's either a kickass pizza or a beverage or an italian milf. They're all excellent."

"Sure."

"Hey, you're pretty strong for staying back at home, taking care of Phillip, still working under someone like him, and I have to give you credit."

"Well, I mean, to pack up all your stuff and just leave--"

"I'm running from everything, and you're still sane. You have to believe that you're an anomaly."

"It's getting late."

 

 

That night, as they cuddled in their new queen size bed--much bigger than the twin size one from their previous apartment, Laurens spooning him from behind, Alex spoke up just as the other was about to fall asleep.

"Burn scars don't fade away," he paused.

"Yeah, they do."

"I don't think you're positive."

"You won't be a skeleton forever, and I won't be scared forever, of my own shadow. They'll go away."

"They stopped hurting, finally. It only took me a few--"

"Oh, stop--"

"But, you know," he smiled as he glanced forward, the balcony's sliding door allowing the Maine moon overhead to shine through the glass, "You've always been afraid, since what happened that night all those years ago." He yawned slightly underneath his breath.

He murmured, "It keeps getting easier."

"I'm just afraid to think of what could have happened... if you hadn't arrived sooner, or if he had cornered me, or if I missed a vent, or if I didn't take your knife--"

"Shh..."

"I would have been an object, right?" He breathed, his words damp with melancholy. "I mean, if what you told me was--"

"He would have, yeah, and sold you to someone," he was quiet, "But he didn't. He didn't do it to me, because of you, and he didn't do it to you, because of me--And you're safe, and I'm safe, as long as we--"

"As long as we run, forever."

"No--"

"But I would do that," he muttered as he shut his eyes, "If I got to do it with you."

**Author's Note:**

> Hey! Thanks for reading. :3
> 
> High-res copy with songfics and additional commentary.  
> https://www.wattpad.com/491467888-alexithymia-hamilton-au-amorevolous


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